Chocolate Cake
by Sarai Carrasco
Summary: Betty gets dumped, she steps into Pop's to get warm and finds herself sharing chocolate cake with someone unexpected. *language
1. Chapter 1

**Chocolate Cake**

… **~*~...**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

 **Betty/Malachi**

 **Very AU, OOC**

I'm sick in the head, desperate for branches on the Riverdale tree. I'm used to the wolf centric Twilight horizon, ever broadening. Sure, I do love Bughead, but you can only go so far with it until it's basic and vanilla and boring and blech… So, again I am expanding on Malachi (chai?). Something different. Enjoy… ~S.C.

…~*~...

Betty took the verbal beating from Jughead like a real Lady Serpent would, the younger members had seen and heard their sparring match outside the Wyrm. The girl had barely anything on and didn't even let loose a shiver, she let one tear stray down her cheek, but only once Jughead had turned from her. When the door closed behind his brooding form in the bar, she let a breath out, steam billowing from her mouth in the cold. Sucking in a ragged breath, Betty crossed her arms, ignoring the imploring stares around her, she began to walk. In her head, she relived the dance over and over. Seeing Jughead's disgusted looks and disapproving nods from her Mother, it was a nightmare. She was totally convinced that she'd be engulfed in Jughead and his sweet scent and his warm soft lips on her own. Instead she was shivering outside of Pop's, desperately wiping at her tear stained face, rubbing her numb fingers over her frozen arms. Deciding that how she looked meant nothing compared to a hot cup of coffee and humongous slice of apple pie, she entered the diner. Eyes sliding closed at the feeling of warmth around her, a smile slid across her face.

"Hey there Betty! You look absolutely frozen, come on, take the booth next to the heater vent. I'll get you something to warm your bones." Pop's was so caring, he didn't wait for her answer, just went to work gathering up a mug and hot coffee, a blanket from his back room and a slice of pie. Setting the mug and plate down in front of her, he smiled pitifully at her shivering form. He shook out the blanket and placed it over her shoulders.

"Oh, that's nice. Thank you so much Pop." He nodded at her then returned to the counter. She tugged the blanket over herself a little more, placing her hands on the mug to warm them.

"Don't I know you?" A voice came from behind her, one she could have sworn she knew, but she couldn't quite place. Turning around a little stiffly, she noticed the spikes covering the shoulders of his leather cutte first. Then the curls hanging in his face, and finally, recognition hit her.

"Malachi…" Her voice was small, a little frightened.

"Yeah. So I do know you?" His eyes narrowed at her, but a smirk covered half of his face.

"I wouldn't exactly say that. Acquaintance is more like it. Guilt by association could be even cover it." She was talking more to herself than to him. Having already turned around to dig into her pie, she didn't know that Malachi had picked up his silverware, his coffee and his wallet. She hadn't taken any notice of him really until he was sitting down across from her, a wide toothy grin on his face.

"Yes, you can join me, thank you for asking." She took a sip of coffee, eyeing him.

"Gaging by your reaction to me, I'm sure that had I asked to sit with you. The answer would have been no." He waved at Pop's, something they'd obviously done before and Pop's was at their table side with the pot of coffee and another plate with pie.

"Anything else for you Malachi?" Pop's regarded him like an old friend, the way he had done with Betty. She found the exchange interesting when the young Ghoulie finally spoke.

"Maybe some of that chocolate cake?" He looked like a little boy on Christmas, eyes lit up and a happy grin on his face. She could feel his excitement at the prospect of the cake. Pop Tate smiled back at him, winking and walked away.

"You come here often?" She asked.

"Yeah, for as long as I can remember. Pop's been letting me hang out, eat cake and drink coffee, get sober." He looked her straight in the eye, honesty settling between them. "I thought I knew you when you walked in. Now I'm guessing you caught me in the midst of my Jingle Jangle haze. I wasn't exactly a nice guy then." He reached for the cream in the little jar, pouring it into his mug, then stirring it with a spoon.

"When I met you, I was trying to figure out who the Candy Man was. My boyfriend at the time, challenged you to a race, that my neighbor got you arrested for participating in. Not exactly good standing on either of our ends." She watched him, how the muscles in his jaw flexed at the mention of the race and the Candy Man.

"I see, so you run with the Serpents? Can I see your snake bite?" He took the last bite of his pie, searching her exposed flesh for a tattoo.

"I'm, not a…" She could feel the tears welling up again. She did her best swallow against the ball in her throat. "I'm not a Serpent. I pledged tonight." She shivered at her memories, letting a few tears fall from her eyes.

"Don't cry darlin', here, dry your eyes." He handed her a napkin from the metal holder on the table, she took it and patted her eyes.

"Jughead, he told me to leave, he doesn't want me anymore. He certainly doesn't want me to be a Serpent." She finally looked up from the wet napkin. Malachi had tilted his head, listening to her. He looked a little sad.

"Yeah, the Jones', they only want certain people in their little club. _Not_ people like you and me. It's for the best I suppose, if they'd wanted you in, you'd be Serpent Prince's Old Lady right? Can't ever live that down. If I'd made it in, it'd be hands off for me, only allowed to speak to the beautiful soon to be queen when allowed." He winked at her, a devilish grin forming over his full lips. She felt heat rising over her cheeks, she smiled back at him.

"You wanted to be a Serpent?" She asked, lashes fluttering over the tops of her cheeks. He bit his lip, watching the blush form over her face. He liked that he could affect her like that.

"Yeah, I was a punk ass kid, all of fourteen. Stars and guns in my eyes. I wanted to be like my older brother, prospect for the Serpents, get my snake bite, roll hard with FP and Tall Boy. Wasn't in the cards. FP said I wasn't Serpent material. Bet your ass he was singing a different tune when I went after Jughead and Sunnyside Trailer Park. We made a truce in the joint though. Got me sober." Pop's brought the cake just then, a huge slice, and two spoons.

"I hope you like it Betty, it's fresh." He filled up her mug, took their empty plates and disappeared again.

"Let me ask you a question?" He picked up a spoon, and waited for her response.

"Shoot." She said, taking the remaining spoon in her hand.

"Why'd you do the dance?" He was genuinely curious, he took the corner of the slice of cake, slipping the spoon into his mouth. She sat intrigued by him, the way his eyes slid closed at the taste of the cake in his mouth. He chewed slowly, "Mmmm." He moaned around his bite.

"I wanted to be a part of Jughead's world, his life. Is it really that good?" She was smiling now, he had finally opened his eyes, his grin wide and full promise.

"Yeah, it's so damn good!" He motioned for her to take a bite, she took a small one. "So you did it for Jughead, not because you wanted to?" He was digging in again, waiting for her response.

"I guess you could say that. My Mom was a Serpent. I wasn't going for a snake bite, or a patch. I just wanted to be part of Jughead's life. He was always pushing me away." She took a bigger bite this time. It was good, her Mom would kill her if she knew she had eaten the pie and now the cake. She didn't care, it was sinfully rich and moist. She took a swig of coffee, enjoying every flavor that collided on her tongue.

"Seems like a waste to me." He looked her in the eyes again. "How could he just dump you after he let his entire club see you in next to nothing? Fuckin' moron if you ask me." He drained his mug again. Pop's came around the table again, filling their mugs, setting a fresh jar of cream on the table. Malachi beamed at the older man.

"Easy for you to say, you aren't in a relationship with Jughead." She said.

"Neither are you. He pointed the spoon at her and winked.

"Rub in like lotion why don't you." She set her spoon down on the empty plate, sitting back in the booth, remembering the blanket around her, she took it off and folded it into the seat next to her.

"Jeez, you wore _that_ to a bikerbar in Southside?" His eyebrows shot up on his forehead.

"Yes, what's wrong with it?" She was looking at her outfit, trying to figure out where she went wrong, even her Mom had given her grief about it.

"For starters, you look extremely virginal. I mean, did you fall out of a JCrew catalog or what?" He pushed the plate to edge of the table.

"No, I didn't fall out of a JCrew catalog. And virginal? Seriously?!" She was shocked to say the least, looking down at her outfit, she could see her black lace peeking through.

"Well yeah, where's the leather, the lace, the fishnets? Did you dance in that?" His hand made a motion to her outfit.

"I bought a special lacey set for tonight, didn't really seem to matter either way." She looked toward the front of the diner, trying to look anywhere but at Malachi, her fingers absently pressing into the materiel of her shirt. In her desperate need to avert her attention elsewhere, she missed the hungry look in Malachi's eyes, meaning she'd also missed when he kicked his lips and leaned forward.

"You see, Ghoulies don't let their ladies dance on the pole, in fact, it's forbidden. They have to square up sure, but no one beside the brother they belong to sees them in any state of undress. Just sayin'." With a smug little smirk set on his handsome face, he sat back, hands folded on the table top.

"What do the Ghoulies and their laws have to do with me?" She asked, fully enthralled with the dimples that settled on either side of his full lips. Heat rose from the pit of her stomach, proof of it spreading over her pale flesh. He couldn't help it when a wolfish grin spread out replacing his smirk. He liked her, a lot.

"That, right there?" A long finger pointed to her rosey glow in the dim diner light. "Is fuckin' gorgeous. That alone could bring me to my knees, I'd hand you my property patch no questions asked." He was leaning so far across the table now, that his outstretched finger tilted her chin back up when she looked down at her hands in her lap in embarrassment.

Emerald orbs met chocolate ones, it felt like an eternity. The two of them sitting there lost in each others stare. Betty took a deep breath, she couldn't look away, she wanted him devour her the way he'd devoured the cake. She wanted him to taste her and relish in her flavor. She wanted to do the same to him. He was magnetic.

"Are you offering Malachi?" Her voice was low, hushed so only he could hear her. Placing her arms on the table. She leaned forward. Biting his bottom lip, his eyes skimmed the planes of her face.

"Let's just say it's crossed my mind several times since you let me sit with you." She slipped her slender fingers through his, feeling the tell tale signs of automotive work on them. "Let's try a date first. One where you haven't just been dropped by the moron son of my rival. One where you're wearing something more appropriate for the back of my bike. I'll take you anywhere you wanna go Betty." Her cheeks were flaming. She could feel his hot breath rushing over knuckles. Lifting her eyes back to his face. She watched him place his heated lips over the back of her hand and kissed her. She could have died right there. The sweetness of it all, it almost gave her tooth ache. She smiled brightly at him.

"I take it that's a yes?" His own smile rivaled the sun, she thought.

"It's definitely a yes. You're so handsome. You know that?" The words fell from her lips before she even realized it. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe I said that." Flustered. She tugged her hand away from him, fanning her face with it.

"Hey don't do that. I want you to be yourself. Say what you think. What you feel. Be real with me Betty." He sat back in his seat when he seen Pops heading toward them with their tickets in hand. Silently, Malachi took them both, slipping Pops a hundred dollar bill. Betty's eyes widened at the gesture.

"Oh no, let me get mine. Please?" She reached for her bag, it wasn't there. She'd forgotten it at the Whyte Wyrm, he face paled.

"Don't trip Betty, I got you. Return the favor another time. It wasn't that much, I just like to tip Pops big. He's a good friend." Grabbing the mugs in one hand, he stood, offering the other to her. Looking up at him, she gave him a small smile and took his hand in hers. Pulling her up, she slid into his side, blanket in one hand and the other around his waist.

"You're lucky I drove the cage tonight, you won't be freezing on the way home." He said, wrapping an around her as he guided her toward the front door.


	2. Party South of Southside

**Party South of Southside**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale Universe.**

… **~*~...**

 _Music: Break the Knob Off by Lil Wyte and Jelly Roll_

 _A/N: We will be jumping straight into things, business as usual. Closure of Southside High, the younger Serpents are present at Riverdale, but no insane antics from Reggie or Cheryl. Just some folks hittin' the books, gettin' they learn on! For all intents and purposes, Jughead and Sweet Pea have no beef. They're friends it's sweet and cute and awww... Let's do this shall we? ~S.C._

… **~*~...**

The halls of Riverdale High School were cramped, elbows and palms pushed at backs and arms. Betty had been waiting for this day all week long, she'd stuffed her Mom's leather jacket in her bag for later. She was currently sporting something completely off the Betty rocker. Black skinny jeans, her mother's long forgotten motorcycle boots, and underneath her pastel pink sweater was the greatest tank top she had ever acquired. Dipping into the ladies room. Betty pulled the cute little cardigan from her arms, shoving into her backpack, the V-line of the tank plunged low over her decolletage, she smiled to herself. Rummaging around for a second, she found what she was looking for, her makeup bag. Channeling _Dark Betty_ , she smudged her black gel liner and a fresh coat of shadow around her eyes, replacing the shadow palette into her bag, she searched for her chapstick. Satisfied with her newly dramatized look, she pulled the hair tie from her signature pony. Running fingers through her blonde hair, she opted for a messy look, leaving strands to fall where they may. Finally done primping, she took out her Mom's leather jacket, appreciating the cool of the satin lining on her nervously heated skin.

She pushed through the restroom door, hoping the halls were cleared of anyone that might notice her. Reaching in her back pocket for her phone, she checked it for any messages from Malachi. A smile lit up her face, he was waiting for her just outside, she damn near ran to the front doors of the school. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest, the sight of Malachi sitting astride the 1993 Harley Davidson Heritage Softail adorned in skulls, made her weak in the knees. When he saw her burst through the school doors, leather on and looking ready for the night, he revved his engine. Unfortunately his engine gained the attention of several Serpents on the side of school. Clearing the side of the building just in time to see Betty hop on the back of Malachi's bike and race away.

"Oh shit! Looks like Betty's playing with the Ghoulies." Fangs was amused, he laughed a little even, clapping Jughead on the back.

"Son of a bitch man. Whaddya do Jughead?" Sweet Pea could feel the rage radiating from Jughead.

"I told her to leave. That we had to stay away from each other until it stuck. I didn't think she'd go straight for the lion's den." Jughead pulled a cigarette from his nearly empty pack. Stuffing it between his lips, he lit it, taking a deep drag from it. " _FUCK!"_

…~*~...

Somewhere on the Southside, there was a run down looking Mexican restaurant. There was an awning over the front, lined with picnic tables and trash cans, parking spaces on either side of the dining area. A huge weathered sign hung above the aluminum roofing, _**Huerta's**_ , in neon lit lettering.

Malachi slowed the bike as he entered the parking lot, opting for a space at the end of the row, far from the ordering window. He just had to have his privacy with this particular girl.

"Here we are, the best food you'll ever put in that beautiful mouth." Rising from his seat, Betty noticed his shirt was unbuttoned under his cutte, her mouth went dry at the sight of him. Offering her his hand, she took it, swinging her leg over the seat, coming to stand in front of him. "you can leave your bag here. No one will mess with it." Greedily he watched her remove the straps from her arms, leaning it on the seat back of the bike, he could watch all day if she let him. Returning to stand in front of him, she had to look up into his eyes, despite the boots she was wearing. "Hey there beautiful." His smile was spectacular, butterflies assaulted her stomach. This would be their first kiss if she didn't ruin it.

"Hi." Was all she said, returning his smile with one of her own. Bringing her hands up to the studded collar of his leather sleeveless jacket, she took another step toward him. His hands found the small of her back, having slipped under her well worn leather. Pulling her even closer to him. She could smell the spicy notes of his cologne, it made her insides turn to goo. He was a perfect gentleman when he took her home almost a week ago. He opened her car door, walked her all the way to the door of her house, and politely asked for her phone number. He kept his hands to himself and told her he looked forward to their date. She never would have imagined this was the same guy from the House Of The Dead, the same one who called her a bitch and a skank. Jingle Jangle was not his friend.

She couldn't help it when she looked away, his deep dark eyes engulfed her, causing flames to lick up her spine and into her heart. Things had never been this way with Jughead, she never felt the cosmic pull to touch him or run her fingers over his bare chest like she was doing now, to Malachi.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" It was almost a whisper, but she blushed anyway, averting her eyes from him again. His arms were fully around her now, their leather creaking against each other. "Hey, don't look away baby." Nudging her chin back up with the crook of his finger, he smiled again, rubbing his thumb over the blush on her cheeks. "See? This gets me every time." His thumb smoothed down the side of her face to her lips, his eyes searching hers for any sign of reservation, he found none and his full lips are upon hers. His large hands were on both sides of her face now, holding her to him, almost afraid to let her go. The sweetness of her Chapstick was enticing as his tongue rolled over her pout, begging for entrance. Without hesitation, Betty's lips are part for Malachi, at the same time her fingers thread through the long dark curls of his hair.

Nibbling at her swollen bottom lip, something wanted to do all week, she let's a small moan escape her mouth. The need to show this girl that he wasn't a total creep outweighs his desire to bend her over his bike. So he pulls reluctantly from her, hooded eyes searching hers again, she's breathless and thoroughly flushed from his kisses.

"You hungry?" He asks.

"I am." She says, letting go of his silky hair, smoothing her hands down her jeans.

"Come on, let's get you some grub."

…~*~...

"I'm stuffed. How am I supposed to sit on your bike now?" Betty gathered their trash up on the tray their food came on.

"Do you think you'll make for ten minutes?" Malachi asked, picking up the tray, dumping the wrappers into the trash can. She stood, stretched and shook her head. "Good. Let's get out of here." He returned the tray to the window and jogged to meet her at his bike.

"Should I be concerned?" She asked wearily, slipping the straps of her backpack over her arms.

"Not at all, just droppin' off the bike, gonna roll the cage so you don't get cold." He flashed her a toothy smile and settled into his seat. She sat behind him, holding tightly around his abdomen. Her heartbeat quickened when the engine roared to life, then they were off.

Using his back as a shield from the wind, Betty watched the buildings and random trees whiz by them. She hadn't ever been this far south before, this was almost to the end of their county. They drove into a neighborhood, it was older, quiet. The trees were well established, kids were riding bikes and waving in their general direction. Malachi waved back, smiling wide at the neighborhood kids. At the end of the block they were on, there was a small house with a large garage at the back of it. Malachi went right up the large driveway, pressing a button in his pocket. The garage door opened and they drove inside. It was dark and it smelled of a working garage, something she'd always dreamed of.

Malachi shut the engine off, used his foot to put the stand down and slipped off. He offered his hand again. Something he seemed do with her a lot she noticed. She didn't mind, just made a note of how careful he was with her.

"Welcome to my happy place." He said, switching on the lights. She took in the thousand plus square foot shop space, he had a master technician 's tool box, likely a $15,000.00 set up excluding the tools inside. An air compressor in one corner, a parts washer in the other, a tarp was covering a car near the open garage door. There was another car, the one he'd taken her home in the other night and his bike. He had a legitimate shop, and she thought she might have died and gone to heaven.

"This, is absolutely incredible. I think I'm in love." Her smile was wide as she turned to face him. His eyebrows shot up on his face.

"Is that right?" He asked, hands shoved deep inside of his pockets. His long legs brought him within inches if her, his scent engulfed her and she shivered.

"You know what I mean Malachi." She flustered, waving her hand in the air, desperate to clear her head.

"I mean, I do know what you meant. I just like the possible duality of your words." He winked at her, removing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Bringing the filter to his lips, with one hand and a zippo to the tobacco end with the other. Watching his every move, her stomach did little flips, as the flame danced over the edge of the cigarette. Sucking in the smoke, it hollowed Malachi's cheeks. She found it very alluring, unconsciously inching toward him and the smoke billowing from his sensual mouth. "I'd offer you one, but somethin' tells me this isn't your bag. Speaking of, what's your time frame look like? You have cheerleader practice all early in the morning or can I steal you for the night?" She hadn't thought about it, she'd just asked her Mom if she could go out with a friend. She worried her lip as she pulled out her phone. Sending a text to her Mom asking about curfew.

"I'm asking, sorry." Feeling a little embarrassed at how lame she must look to the leader of the freaking Ghoulies, she looked away from him.

"No apologies necessary, I remember having to check in with my Mom too. Now that's a scary woman, Alice Cooper ain't got shit on my Mom, cross my heart." He made an X over his heart, kissed the pads of his fingers and lifted them and his eyes up to the ceiling.

"I find that hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it." She laughed a little, to her phone dinged with a message from her Mother. "Seems she's out with FP. Meaning she won't be home until tomorrow. We have some time." Shooting off a text to her mom letting her know she'd be home late, she turned the phone to silent and shoved in her back pocket.

"You sure? No Bulldogs or River Vixens at seven a.m. sharp? I don't need beef with high school football players or skinny chicks in polyester beatin' down my door." He got her to laugh at that one, a real honest laugh. And he loved it.

"Nope, no cheerleaders, no football players, no Serpents, nothing." She decided she wanted to sneak a peek at the giant tool box, just to see if it was filled with Harbor Freight wrenches, or if there was some genuine Snap-On hidden in the drawers.

"Well then, that changes things. You gonna snoop around my garage Betty?" He inhaled deeply, one of his eyes was half shut as he watched her open one of the drawers of his tool box. Smoke slowly swirling up toward the rafters.

"I like tools, and cars, and AHA!" Pulling a wrench from the drawer, her eyes twinkled with delight. "Snap-On, I knew it. You're garage is way too nice for this to all be Harbor Freight." Shocked, he stubbed out the cigarette in his ashtray, making his way over to her at the open drawer.

"This must be one of those those things I forgot. You a wrench Cooper?" Side glancing him, she straightened her posture a bit before answering.

"I dabble. I fixed the Super Sport for Jughead and Archie. I seen under your hood, you didn't need my help." She smiled at him, sifting through his bowl of random small parts.

"I'm glad I got sober, that I was sitting in Pop's the other night. You're somethin' else." He pushed the hair that was covering her face behind her ear, she shivered at the contact.

"I'm glad too Malachi." Her honesty sent his heart into overdrive.

"You like music?" He asked her.

"Yeah, I like music. Do you?" Closing the drawer, she gave him her undivided attention.

"I do, all kinds, I'm eclectic like that." He winked at her, taking her hand in his own. "If I take you to The House of The Dead, promise you'll stick by me?" She shook her head yes, squeezing his hand.

"The last time I was there, you uh…" Swallowing thickly, she moved closer to him. "... Called me some names. You scared the hell out of me." Her green eyes found his brown, he appreciated her honesty, reminding him of why he chose to leave the drugs behind.

"I was a real piece of work. I'm not that guy anymore though. I want you there with me, but you don't have a patch, some of the guys might think you're fair game," He was so close now, she had to look up at him. "And your anything but." She took a deep breath, not trusting her voice to come out clearly. She liked that he was staking claim to her already, however misogynistic it might sound to Veronica, it had her wondering about about boy, no, _man_ in front of her.

"I'll stay by you, I promise." Lifting herself up on her tiptoes, she gave him small kiss.

He ran his thumb over a scar on her palm, a part of her wanted to jerk away, close down their lines of communication immediately, but she didn't. She let him bring her open palm to his face, let him trace the half moons over the skin there like he was reading pages from a book, he was. He looked at each one, then pulled her other hand up to inspect it as well. She met his imploring stare with a sad look. Bringing her palms up further, he places gentle kisses over each set of scars, the heat of his breath over her cooler skin was luxurious, sending chill bumps up her arms.

"I'll want to know one day." Was all he said, he didn't push it any further, just left the possibility of a future hanging in the air. "Tonight is for fun, no tears. Trust me?" Shaking her head in agreement, he took her hand in his, and tugging toward the car covered in a tarp. Picking up her backpack on his way to the classic car, Betty's eyes grew large when he ripped the cover back.

"Is this a 1974 Cutlass Supreme? Cinnamon in color correct?" She ran a finger over the clear coated original paint. Malachi tilted his head to the side, bit his lip and simply opened the door for her.

"Original interior too. Came with the cream leather, I pulled the color codes and eventually the carpet to make sure it wasn't some lie from the previous owner. I'm only the second owner, if that interests you at all." Her cheeks hurt from how wide she was smiling now.

"It interests me plenty. This car is hot." She said, taking a seat inside. He handed her the backpack, then shut the huge door when she had her feet safely inside. He turned off the lights before returning to the car.

"How are you even real?" He asked, to no one in particular, as he sat inside in the car with her. "Alright, you ready? It's gonna be a wild ass party." She shook her head and smiled, waiting for the roar of the engine she was hoping he had under the hood. "Alright then."

Turning the key in the ignition was agonizingly slow for Betty as waited with great expectations. She watched every movement his hand made, from the way he pinched the key between his thumb and index finger, to the way he bit his lip just before the engine roared to life, exhaust fumes heavy in the air. The loping of the engine was a dream come true, she knew she could fix this car with a blindfold on.

"Mmmmmmmmm." She hummed.

"I take it you approve?" He was yelling over the engine.

"I more than approve." He liked that answer, then put it into gear and backed out of the garage, punching the button in his pocket again, the garage door closed.

…~*~...

From the outside, The House of The Dead looked abandoned, but that was appeal of it, why he'd made it that way in the first place. He didn't want a lot of attention, didn't want his parties getting broke up by police, dragging his safe haven into mayhem and rebellion.

Driving around the back of the building, there was a lone Ghoulie, sitting on a bar stool drinking a beer, smoke billowing from what looked to be a cigar It was innocent enough, until Betty realized there was more to the picture than met the eye. She looked around, there was a parking garage, dimly lit and packed with bikes and cars, and lifted trucks. Malachi pulled into the garage, slowly climbing the floors until they were out in the open, on the top floor of the parking structure, there were no other cars. He parked by what looked like an elevator, turning the riotous engine off and pulling the key from the ignition. "You ready for this?" He asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." She answered him quietly.

"Stick by me, don't take drinks from anyone unless I okay it. What I really want you to do is have fun, let loose. I'm not Jughead, and this ain't the Whyte Wyrm. I want you with _me_." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Goosebumps rose over her arms despite the jacket she wore, his hot breath ghosting over her neck had her eyes rolling back in her head. "Let's go." He was out of the car before she had opened her eyes. The car door swung open and his hand was there waiting for her to take it.

"Such a gentleman." She said.

"Only for you Betty." Putting his arm around her shoulder, he hugged her to his side. "You have that effect on me." Lacing his fingers with hers, she followed him toward the elevator, he jabbed a finger into the unlit button, it dinged a moment later and opened for them to get on.

The inside was like any elevator you'd use, a hand rail on three of the four sides, a janky luminescent light above and a series of buttons for various floors. It came to a halt on the first floor. On his never ending key ring, he jiggled a small golden key into the keyhole under the buttons. The elevator went down another floor, he removed the key and the door opened. It was like something out of a movie, something similar to the Matrix when Neo was in the club waiting for Trinity to find him, before he had to choose between the red and blue pills. There were multitudes of people dancing in the strobe lights and the smoke, she had never seen anything quite like it before. Malachi squeezed her hand, she found his dark chocolate eyes and smiled. With a flick of his wrist, the DJ flipped a switch on the board and the song changed, she hadn't heard anything like this before, a lot of firsts happening for her.

On the opposite side of the club was a large half circle booth, it's paint job matched the rest of the bar area. Neon fluorescent paint strokes. Skulls adorning every corner and gothic chandeliers and light fixtures amidst the smoke filled atmosphere. Malachi kept her close to him, when he walked through the crowd, people regarded him and moved out of his way. He was in his element for sure, he gracefully walked to the other side toward his destination, nodding to people in every direction. When they made it to the booth, it was a lot less loud, she could hear him when he asked what her drink choice was. She'd never been asked that question ever.

"I uh, I have no idea." She was lost, this was not her crowd, come to think of it, she never had a crowd. She just floated through parties for the sake of others, drinking piss beer and fireball shots simply because it was expected of her.

"You like vodka?" She wrinkled her nose and shook her head no. "Yeah, me either. I'll order a couple of drinks and we'll see what you like, okay?" She agreed, he waved over a familiar looking Ghoulie who smiled wide at her, recognition plastered on his face.

"Betty, this is Batso, I do believe you've already met." Malachi, winked at Betty, his smile was wicked to say the least.

"Good to meet you Batso, again." Betty shook his hand with a confidence that had the other Ghoulie raising a brow and grinning.

"The pleasures all mine, no beanie baby Serpent tonight I see, good thing too, that whiney ass brat gets on my last nerve. Betty, is that short for anything?" He was sitting with them in the booth now, leaning in her direction waiting for an answer.

"Nope, not tonight or ever. Elizabeth by the way. Incredibly original I know." She smiled at Malachi, who was watching her settle into the vibe of his club.

"I see, things are looking up in the world. We'll have to work on that name. Anyway, what's your poison Princess?" He shot her a wink.

"We're broadening our horizons tonight, let me get an Old Fashioned, a Gin and Juice with the sugary rim and lets have a tequila sunrise just for shits and giggles." He put his arm around her, pulling her into his side.

"Sweet, I'll throw in some beers for the hell of it. Be back in a minute." When the bleach blonde Ghoulie left the table, Malachi turned his attention back to her.

"You seem comfortable." It was an observation.

"I am, I don't have to act a certain way with you. It's nice, you don't expect me to adhere to your rules." She was leaning into him now, looking up at him.

"I don't have rules for you. I just want you to be real with me. Be you, be mine." He kissed her forehead, her eyes slid closed at the contact, her heart skipped a beat. Before she could reference his statement about being his, Batso spoke.

"Isn't this cozy. Alright, get to sippin' and let the boss man know what you like, I'll keep 'em comin' until you tell me to stop." Batso removed several glasses and bottles from the round serving tray then returned to the bar.

"It's all you baby, I already know what I like." He wagged his eyebrows at her as she sat up straight to start sampling. "That's the gin and juice."

"How much is this all going to cost?" She was warry, placing the first straw into her mouth, taking a sip. "That's not bad." She said.

"Next." He said, pushing the glass to the side. "Don't worry about cost, I told you before, I got you." Shaking her head, she sipped from the glass with dark liquid with a cherry and an orange peel.

"The Old Fashioned." Was all he said, he was looking out over the crowd of people.

"Huh, I like that. It's different." He smiled and tucked the glass back toward him, then pushed another glass toward her.

"Tequila sunrise, 'cuz we had to go a little girly." he winked at her, she sipped, she liked, she sipped again. "You like it don't you? I knew it." He laughed to himself.

Before she knew it, she was draining the glass, pushing the sleeves of her leather jacket down over her shoulders. "It's getting warm." She said, fanning herself a little.

"Yeah it is." He raised a brow at her, she shook her head. "You wanna dance, or you want another drink? I have pool tables on the other side of the bar." She noticed that he said, _he_ had pool tables. She shook her head no, reaching for a bottle of beer. One she didn't recognize, it must not be the run of the mill cheap crap her friends always bought for parties.

"Can I try this?" She asked, holding up the bottle. He nodded at her.

"That's my favorite." He stated.

"It's incredible. What is it?" She took another pull from the bottle, closing her eyes, relishing the flavor.

"It's an egg cream stout. Batso gets it from a brewery somewhere in the state. We pay 'em fat for the exclusive bottling." He took his cutte off now too, leaving only his unbuttoned shirt on. She couldn't stop staring, the mouth of the bottle was still pressed to her bottom lip, she hadn't taken another sip, just sat there and stared at him. That devilish grin from the other night was on his face again, she hadn't noticed really, until he leaned forward, his fingers grasping the bottle neck.

"You gonna be a good girl and share?" She lazily lifted her eyes to meet his, giving up the bottle and any attempt at not salivating at how good he looked right now.

"Do you ever button your shirt?" She asked honestly, raking her eyes over his toned abdomen.

"If there's inclement weather, perhaps. Or if I'm rockin' the county issued orange jumpsuit." He took a hefty drink from the bottle. She watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, she crossed her legs, he definitely noticed that.

She could feel the buzz settling nicely over her generally anxietal body. She settled into the seat a little, relaxed enough to let her thigh touch Malachi's on the booth seat. She leaned toward him a little, a question forming on the tip of tongue.

"Is this how you seduce all the girls?" Her head was leaning on her palm, the dangerously low V-neck of her tank top was on display for Malachi in this particular position.

"I should be asking you the same question, but to be fair, no. I don't seduce anyone. They either want me or they don't. Usually for a price, Jingle Jangle or blow." Betty felt slightly uncomfortable at his admission. She didn't like how his answer made her feel, almost like jealousy, it clenched her heart. He seen it in the way she sat up straighter and the furrow of her brow, how she reached for the hair tie in her hair and tugged it from the crown of her head. She fumbled with the elastic for a moment, looking away from him in discomfort. He couldn't help the feeling of victory that swelled in his chest. He didn't like to share either.

"So am I the flavor of the month Malachi?" She asked a little salty. He caught on to jealousy real quick now.

"Not even close, I'm not a petulant child like you're used to-" He caught her attention with the jab at Jughead. "I take what I want. You think you're here to entertain me? Look around, I own this shit. I don't need to be distracted, I need your honesty, your loyalty, your company. I asked you to be here, and I told you before, I'm _not_ Jughead." He placed the bottle in front of her on the table. He left half the bottle for her to drink. She felt guilty for acting so childish, but she was compared to him, wasn't she?

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assume. I guess I have a lot to learn, I'm new at this. I've only dated high school boys." She offered him a smile, he relaxed, scooted closer to her.

"You have a lot to heal, I spotted those wounds on your heart the moment you stepped inside of Pops. I have scars too Betty. I left high school when I was sixteen. That was six years ago." She accepted what he said, draining the bottle in a few swallows.

"Would it be wrong of me if I wanted to just forget that I'm just seventeen and naive?" Her eyebrows rose in hopes he'd let her off the hook.

"All you had do was ask." He led her the dance floor just in time for a new DJ to take the booth. It felt like only minutes, but she was sweating and it felt good. Things had started off pretty mellow, the typical ballads and dance songs, then something insane exploded through the speakers. Another song she'd never heard before, they spoke of drugs and things she'd never experienced, but something about it made her jump around, taking Malachi's hands in her own. She finally let herself loose, just feeling the beat of the music, and the heat from Malachi's hands on her own, and on her arms. She closed her eyes in ecstasy when his palms cupped her face, her fingers finding the hard ridges of his abdomen.

"Look at me?" He pleaded with her. She obliged, locking eyes with him. "Stay the night with me?" He was shouting and he didn't care, he just couldn't let her leave yet. He didn't want the night end.

"I'll stay with you." She beamed at him, he led her back to the table. Grabbing her jacket and his cutte, he began to push his way through the crowd again, finally making to the elevator, he jammed his index finger into the button at the elevator door. When it opened they stepped inside, the temperature difference was obvious, a shiver ran up Betty's spine as she sought him for warmth.

"This night is crazy." She said, her hot breath fanning over his naked torso.

"Nah, it's perfect."


	3. The Good, The Bad, and The Ghoulie

**The Good, The Bad, and the Ghoulie**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

… **~*~...**

"Explain to me how this is an issue FP?" Alice lazily leaned back in her chair, rubbing the pad of her middle finger over the dist covered desk in front of her. A grimace adorned her face as she brought the grimy finger up to view it, effectively flipping her ex beau the bird. "Ech! God don't you ever clean?"

"Really? You're worried about some dust on a desk when Betty is God knows where with that Ghoulie trash?" Jughead spoke up from the wall he was leaning on, missing the straining of Sweet Pea's jaw.

"You have got some nerve Forsythe the _third_ , you told her to leave. Betty did as instructed, the boy brought her home in one piece, which is more than I can say for you. Besides, I happen to know his and Fil's Mother, I have coffee with their Grandmother every week." A smile slid over Alice's features, she winked at Sweet Pea, then brought her attention back to Jughead. " _My_ opinion of Malachi should account for something. "

Pulling her vibrating phone from her purse, she seen it was Betty asking to stay longer with her new friend. Alice knew better than to say anything out loud. She gave Betty the go ahead, letting her know she was with FP and it would be awhile. For her to take her time, she trusted her.

"I never meant to hurt her Mrs. Cooper, I wanted her to be safe. She couldn't be any farther from safety than she is right now. Regardless of your friendship with his Mom and Grandma. Betty could be in real danger right now." Tugging on the ends of his beanie, Jughead plead his case to Alice. She was not biting.

"See, I think you meant to drive her away from the Southside, away from the drugs and the sketchy gangs, from the danger you may face as potential future leader. All you did was drive her right into enemy's classic car collection. This isn't your business anymore Jughead, and that right there, is what kills you. You lost your say so when you told Betty to make it stick." Alice stood from her uncomfortable chair, smoothing her skirt down over her shapely thighs. She caught FP looking, he quickly adjusted himself in his seat.

"If you think she's safe with Malachi, then I don't see a reason to be concerned. Can I get you a drink Alice?" FP stood, turning the door knob, and guiding her from the room, palm over the small of her back.

"I think someone just got handed a whole pile of lemons." Fangs said sarcastically, trying to keep a straight face.

"Haha Fangs, it's more like a heaping pile of shit." Jughead took his Dad's vacant seat, placing his throbbing head in his hands.

"We can always make lemonade and shit sandwiches. Look at the bright side boys, if she gets in good with the Ghoulies, we may have intel." Sweet Pea, always the optimist, smiled brightly at the other Serpents in the room.

"Brings a whole new meaning to shit eating grin. Besides, what harm is there if she's just blowing off some steam? Who could blame her, he's like living breathing…" Toni stopped mid sentence at the death glare Jughead was sending her way. "Sorry."

"I get that you have some history with the guy, but it's not helping that my girlfriend is being entertained by _Malachi_." He pulled his pack from his leather pocket, flipping the nearly empty cardboard lid open.

"Ex- girlfriend, and history isn't the way to put it, he's my cousin, and Filthy Fil's little brother." Sweet Pea was a little uncomfortable, family was family no matter if you partied at The House Of The Dead or shot pool at the Whyte Wyrm. Betty wasn't getting a raw deal, Malachi had been clean for a few months, he was putting in time at the NA meetings in Greendale, shit, they all were.

"Could you please not defend him to me, I'm not in the mood. Your cousin or not." Jughead took a deep breath from the cigarette, pushing a huge cloud of smoke from his lungs in frustration.

"Sorry, he is _my_ family too. He was a prospect here before Fil told FP not to give him his top rocker. We grew up Serpents just like you Jughead. What if he was wearing an Ouroboros instead of a cutte with studs and a skull? What if he watched Betty do the Serpent dance and get dumped for it like the rest of us? What if instead of being on a date with a rival club's leader, she was getting wowed by a brother, what's the difference? You still dropped her. Publicly." Fangs was irritated. Sure he tried to break tension with his sarcastic mouth, but Jughead was out of line.

"It's a safety..." Sweet Pea slammed his fist on the desktop, Jughead's face lost all of its color.

"She ain't your girl anymore man. Let it go. She's still a Serpent by blood, because danced, can't change it. She's protected no matter what, Malachi isn't the piece of shit you think he is, he takes care of our Grams. You think you have insight on something, you don't know shit about it. Keep my cousin's and Betty's names out of your mouth." He slid his closed fist across the wooden surface, looking absolutely lethal. Jughead swallowed thickly, nodding his head in agreement.

"Are we done here?" Toni was worried the boys were going to get rowdy, she didn't want to see Sweet Pea beat the hell out of Jughead, especially over Betty Cooper.

"I'm sorry man. Honestly." Jughead offered his hand to Sweet Pea in a truce, reluctantly, Sweet Pea accepted it then left the room with Fangs.

"Maybe learn to pick your battles a little better Jug. Come on, let me get you a beer, we can shoot some pool and give FP shit about Alice." Feeling defeated, Jughead agreed, following Toni out of his Dad's office.

…~*~...

Betty's house was dark and quiet, something she had grown accustomed to over the last few weeks, more if she was really being honest with herself. Her parents marriage had crumbled into silence and separate rooms after Hal had returned home. His increasing distance irritated Alice to no end, he couldn't care less, and she'd demanded that he go. Hal's departure orchestrated an abrupt and immediate visit with Mayor McCoy to draw up the long overdue divorce papers. If you'd have told Betty that a divorce was all that was needed to remove the distinct and large stick residing in her Mother's rear end, she would have laughed and called you a fool.

Having already unlocked and entered the front door, Betty fumbled with the light on the table in the living room, nearly knocking it over. Malachi caught it, his face glowing from the warm light emitting from between his large hands. Her smile made his heart skip a beat. She was looking up at him, obvious embarrassment written over her features. Righting the lamp on the table, he stood straight, eyes never leaving hers.

"Sorry, I'm not really used to it being dark in here, but Mom seems to be spending more time with FP lately. Second chances and all that." She fibbed, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You don't have to apologize to me babe. And I know all about second chances." Winking at her, he finally took notice of the room around him. "I think this is the biggest living room I've ever seen."

"Well, my parents are a little ostentatious, were. My Dad likes it when people can see your accomplishments. My Mom _was_ desperate to erase her roots, so she went along with it." She could feel the familiar prickling of heat rising from her chest over the flesh of her neck, finally stopping on the apples of her cheeks.

"I'm not complaining, I can see how a man can become proud. Putting your pride and success before your family though, I will never understand that." He sat in the large recliner that used to be her Dad's. A gift from Polly, her Mom and herself, he said it promoted laziness. He never lounged in it for long. She felt overwhelmingly uncomfortable, like Malachi had opened her heart and began to dig around in it.

"Do I need anything in particular?" She changed the subject promptly, he noticed and nodded his head.

"Right, depends on what you want to do Betty. I said I'd take you anywhere you wanna go, remember?" He didn't have a lot in mind when he asked her to stay with him. Not looking for much more than her company, to learn more about her, he was desperate to know her inside and out.

"Well, I hadn't thought about it. I just want to hang out with you." She took several steps toward him, missing his proximity.

"We don't have to go anywhere babe, just sit here in the house you grew up in and talk. I can learn a lot about you just by walking through your room." Reaching a hand out to her, he smiled when she took it. She was being tugged toward him on the recliner, that sly grin that melted her into nothing on his face. This would be the death of her, the dimples on that handsome face, his distinct scent, the way she was compelled to be near him, and he knew it. He craved it, every touch and smile and taste, he wanted to covet it all. The need to read her like a book grew within him after their first meeting, over a slice of cake that he'd somehow always associate with her rather than his Abuela. Elizabeth Cooper had somehow managed to capture his attention with a shiver and blush.

"As interesting as that sounds, I don't think it's wise for you to be in room just yet." Betty had laced her fingers through his, relishing the warmth that radiated from him. Narrowing his eyes at her, an air of mischief about him, he caught her chin between his thumb and the crook of his finger.

"Don't trust me to be a gentleman Elizabeth?" It was the first time he'd said her full name, it sent shivers down her spine. Tugging her closer to him, ever so slowly, he waited for her answer.

"Actually, I don't trust myself Malachi." His lips ghosted over her hers as her eyes fluttered closed.

"I like it when you say my name." His voice was hushed, like he'd let her in on a secret. Truth be told, he had.

"Malachi." She whispered back.

"Mmm. You're the most addicting substance I've ever had the pleasure of tasting." His palms were flat against her cheeks, lips crashing hard into her own.

His tongue grazed the crease of her lips, she greeted it with her own, savoring his flavor. Before she knew it, her hands were tangled in his unbuttoned shirt and his studded cutte. She couldn't get close enough to him. When he began to push the leather she was wearing over her shoulders, calloused fingers skimming over the her heated skin, she tried to hold back a whimper. Failing miserably at being quiet only spurred him on. The jacket fell to the carpet with a flop as Malachi's fingers played with the stretchy hem of Betty's tank top. He became emboldened when she straddled him, smoothing slender digits over his biceps as she did so. His mouth was hot when it found the underside of her jaw. Her breath hitched with the laving of his tongue over her carotid.

"Oh God…" Her voice was foreign to her own ears, eyes flew open in astonishment of her behavior. His mouth felt so incredible over the flesh of her throat, despite her brain screaming at her to stop her current behavior.

His hand came to rest at the base of her skull, tilting her head back so he could have better access to her exposed skin. "You taste so fucking good Betty." Kissing and nibbling over her clavicle, soothing the bite with his tongue, he finally pulled away from her.

Her eyes were still closed as he ran his fingers over the places he'd greedily tasted her. He was exercising incredible control, something he'd lost in the time he'd been using and abusing drugs. He didn't want to push her away, leave her thinking that he was only entertaining her for the sole purpose of sleeping with her.

Lazily lifting her eyelids, biting her bottom lip when their eyes met. Her hands were knotted into the collar of his shirt, so tightly she thought she might have to iron it out for him. They were both breathing heavily, desperate to cool down somehow.

"Is it always like this?" She asked, resting her forehead on his. His hands were pressing into her back, holding her in place astride him.

"Not always. It's only this way with you." She searched his eyes, for what, she couldn't say. His eyes were honest and true; their foreheads were still smashed together.

"Good." Was all she could think to say. It was the truth. She'd never experienced such exquisite fire with anyone, not that she'd had extensive experience, but still. Releasing the breath he was holding, he gave a little chuckle.

"Possessive are we?" He gave her lips a little peck.

"A little I guess." She felt self conscious, both of her brazen behavior and her need to possess the man she was holding to her. "It's strange."

"What is?" He looked her face over when she lifted her head from his.

"How strongly I feel toward you. I've never…" She frowned, at a loss for words for the first since she'd learned to speak.

"It's okay to be drawn to someone. I know it's quick. I'm not here to push you, I want to get to know you. I _need_ to know you." He'd never been more honest with anyone in all his life. She let her grip on his shirt loosen some, settling back in the tops of his thighs.

"Here I thought I was becoming obsessive. Mental instability or something." She took a deep breath, releasing with ease.

"So what if it is?" He relaxed back into the chair, little curls falling into his face. Something she couldn't possibly resist, his mouth tugging up at the corners.

"Says quite a lot about the nature of our relationship don't you think?" His eyebrows raised at her response.

"Relationship?" He asked honestly.

"See? I blur the lines with you. I can't help it, you're annoyingly alluring." She felt heat under skin at her admission fighting the urge to look away.

"I don't have boundaries Betty. No lines to cross or blur. If I had any, I'd want you to stomp on every one of them." His hands were at her hips now, thumbs brushing underneath her shirt. Goosebumps rose all over, and the need to taste his tongue was back with a fury. "I see those wheels turning in your head. Why don't I make some coffee, and you go change into something more comfortable." He gave her a light peck on her forehead.

"That's probably a good idea. Do you need anything?" She asked, rising to her feet. One of his brows arched at her question, a smirk firmly placed on his face.

"Don't ask questions you aren't ready to hear the answers to." He stated plainly, winking at her as he stood. She didn't know what to say.

"Go on, I'll get the java brewin'." Half turning to go up the stairs, she couldn't take her eyes from him. He let her stare while he walked from the room, only assuming he knew where the kitchen was.

She heard cupboard doors opening and closing, she wanted to tell him where the coffee was, and the filters, but she couldn't even form words. Then she heard the water running, he'd found everything, she did her best to put one foot in front of the other, slowly climbing the stairs to the darkened hallway, and eventually to her room.

Reliving every touch, look and word from the last however long, Betty moved robotically around her room. Gathering her bed things, not caring what she picked from the dresser drawers. Peeling her clothes off went very much the same, ripping her tank top over her head, she threw it into the hamper; pants, underwear socks, all thrown without care into a heap half out of the hamper. She was barely aware of her own dressing, much less the removal of her makeup, or the brushing of her hair. She questioned if she were dreaming, opting for not when the bristles of her brush tugged harshly on a knot at the base of her head. It caused a small chill to run through her body, remembering the pressure of his hand tilting her head back to taste her throat. When she was done tidying herself, she looked at her reflection for the first time in the mirror. She was still Betty, still a girl just trying to figure out what direction her true North was, but she was somehow different now. There were changes to her smile, there was a sparkle to her eyes, a glow to her cheeks. None of of these things had been present before, and she had just reapplied makeup at school hours before. How could a few hours with Malachi have changed her so drastically? She looked happy, and she settled on her happiness as the culprit of her sudden change. How had she gone so long without truly feeling happy. She didn't care, she had questions for him that were burning in her to be asked. She felt a surge of energy, a renewed gusto for their conversation. Flicking the light switch off, Betty practically bounced from the bathroom, still unaware of her pajama choice, down the hall and down the stairs toward the kitchen.

When she came walking through the living room, she could smell the coffee and it made her think of the egg cream ale, and of their shared chocolate cake and mugs of coffee at Pop's. There was a running theme with them and she welcomed it. She wanted to know Malachi inside and out. Desperate to know his past and present; the good, the bad, and the Ghoulie. She walked into the kitchen with determination, ready to accept whatever came her way.


	4. Burrito Baby

**Burrito Baby**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

… **~*~...**

They stayed up exchanging stories until Betty yawned mid sentence, her eyes found his in the dim range hood light. Malachi was ready to sleep on the couch or in the guest bedroom Betty had mentioned earlier, he asked for a blanket when he came back inside from his car with a backpack slung over his shoulder.

Betty had decided while she waited for him to return, that she would rather not sleep alone. She enjoyed the way his touch could ease her nervous heart or surge warmth through her body. She didn't know the next time she would have his undivided attention, he ran half of Southside afterall. She knew she might regret inviting her new Ghoulie friend into her bed, but in this particular moment she didn't care. She wanted to be tangled in his limbs and be warmed by his touch. Betty Cooper was a habitual good girl, constant sweetheart and Riverdale's resident A+ student. The whole damn town expected her to be something she couldn't be anymore.

So when Malachi closed and locked the front door, Betty held out her hand for him to take, he obliged her. Lacing his long fingers through soft slender ones, silently she led him up the stairs. Past the guest room, past the linen closet and her sister's unoccupied room. She came to a stop in front of her own room, taking a breath to slow her heart's beating a bit. Pushing the door open, flipping on the light, she led Malachi in, coming to a stop at the side of her bed.

Not knowing what to say, she pulled the covers back, climbed in and waited. He didn't know what to say either, he wasn't expecting to stay in her bed with her. He could tell she was nervous, that she was trying her best to keep her nerves under control. Coming to stand in front of her, he took her face between his palms. She was really beginning to like this

"You sure babe, I can't promise I'll behave, these pajamas are too cute." Tugging at the satin collar, he looked over her face for any sign of resignation, and found none.

"I want you with me. Stay with me?" She asked, using his own words against him. Smiling brightly at her, as if he could deny her now.

"I'll stay with you." Two could play at that game.

"You don't have to behave."

…~*~...

Malachi woke first, reveling in the smooth thigh that was hiked up over his own. He lay there for awhile eyes closed, fingers tracing circles over the satin covering Betty's back. Remembering Betty's hungry stare as he removed every article of clothing from his body, save for his boxers. He'd kissed her breathless, teased her senseless, then held her close to his side until she finally fell asleep.

Daring to open his eyes, the room was brighter than he'd expected. Sweetheart pink and ruffles everywhere, just like he'd imagined. Rubbing his eyes with his one available hand, he lifted his head, looking around the room for any indication that she was just a little on the wild side, he found nothing that stuck out. He'd have to fish for information, it was no matter to him either way. He'd gladly hang on to Betty Cooper whether she was a cute little angel or had a halo hanging from her horns.

He lay there with her for just a few more minutes before kissing her forehead and sliding his arm from under her head. Tucking the covers up over her shoulder, he ran the backs of his fingers over her cheekbone, she just did something to him. He'd let her sleep while he took a shower and waited for Batso and Ratso to swing some breakfast by. He needed to give out itinerary for the day anyway. So he snuck a peak in her closet before heading to the shower, he found a short bobbed black wig and her lacey black things she'd purchased for her little serpent dance. He would have paid damn good money to see her wiggle around that rickety old stage, he'd have killed anyone else watching, but he'd have paid for it.

Freshly showered, dressed and ready to go for the day, Malachi had sat on the bed next to Betty, kissed her cheek, pulled the covers from her shoulders. She was roused by the loss of warmth, and strong fingers running along her jaw. Opening her eyes sleepily, she was greeted with Malachi's seductive smirk.

"Good mornin' Beautiful." He winked at her, butterflies assaulted her stomach instantly. "Batso and his brother Ratso are comin' by to discuss some business. They're bringing you coffee and my Abuela's famous burritos. I cleaned up the shower for you, fresh towels are waiting for you too." She couldn't help the smile that spread over her face, her heart beat furiously. Her hand came to rest on the side of his face, he turned and kissed her thumb, a sweet little kiss.

"I hope I'm not dreaming." She said.

"Nah, you're awake Beautiful. Come on, I want more time with you before I have to be an evil Ghoulie King and you return to being a sweet almost Serpent Princess." Leaning over, he rubbed her nose with his own before kissing her forehead. Then he slipped from her room, and down the stairs.

He waited patiently, smoking his first cigarette of the day leaning on his car out front. He was really gauging the neighborhood, taking in the comings and goings of the cars and joggers. He took note of the fact that the window across Betty's had opened. The familiar face of Jughead Jones' racing buddy had poked out of it, darting around, blue eyes wide when they seen each other. The red head quickly ducked back inside the window, and Malachi laughed to himself. He heard the car before it turned onto the street, it roared violently with its acceleration, coming to an abrupt stop in front Betty's house.

Taking another drag from his cigarette, he turned around to greet his boys. Throwing his hands into the air, he smiled around the cigarette between his lips, eyes half closed due to the smoke.

"This is an awfully nice neighborhood Malachi. Your newest chick must be loaded." Ratso said, hopping out of the passenger side door and coming to stand in front of him on the sidewalk, hands full of hot coffees and bags of burritos.

"She's not my _newest_ girl. It's not like that Ratso." Malachi threw the spent butt of his smoke into the street and smashed it with his studded boot toe. "She's not just some girl, she's…"

"Do not finish that sentence. You're turnin' soft after that stint in jail Malachi. How we supposed to run drugs if you're all wrapped up in love and rainbows and shit? Counterproductive of ya ask me." Batso smacked Ratso upside the head, shaking his own.

"What the hell do you know anyway Ratso? Malachi makes his own choices. He hasn't steered us wrong yet, sobriety suits ya boss." Batso handed an envelope to Malachi, then tucked his keys into his front pocket. "Nosey ass fuckin' neighbors though. See this kid?" Jutting his jaw toward the same window Malachi had been scoping earlier, they all three turned toward Archie. The envelope disappeared as soon as it was received.

"Hey uh, Red, how 'bout you come down here and have a chorizo and egg burrito. My treat." Malachi smiled wide at Archie, motioning towards the bag in Ratso's hand.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Be down in a minute." Archie called down, closing the window.

"Ain't that the kid that rode with the Jones kid at the race?" Ratso pointed out.

"Yeah, he seems okay. More concerned with Betty than me though. He keeps pokin' out that window and lookin' in hers." Malachi motioned toward the two windows with two ringed fingers.

"Well ain't that some shit. Blondie lives right next door to Red." Batso turned to open the back door of his car, pulling out another two paper bags and duffle which he slung over his shoulder before shutting the car door. Archie opened his front door and took two steps at a time coming to a halt in front of the three Ghoulies, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Good mornin' there Red!" With a huge grin on his face, and a hand stretched toward Archie, Malachi stepped forward.

"It's Archie, but how did you…?" Archie's brows knit together in confusion, taking the Ghoulies hand in his.

"Oh I see, _Archie_. Serpent name?" Malachi's hands came together in front of his unbuttoned shirt, fingers laced together except for his two index fingers.

"Yeah. Not patched yet. Honorary member." Archie felt like He'd said too much, but this meeting was weird, and he felt like he was fraternizing with the enemy.

"I seen you lookin' in _my_ Lady's window there. Seein' as yer neighbors and such, I figured I'd invite ya in for breakfast." The older boy watched Archie intently.

"Your Lady? You and Betty?" Archie's eyebrows shot into his hairline now, shock written all over his face.

"It's not official yet, as in specific words have not been uttered, but the intention is there. My Abuela makes a dank burrito Red, I highly advise you snag one. Shall we?" Malachi motioned for the group to follow him, silently they obliged.

Inside of the Cooper home, Archie searched for any sign of Alice, there was none. Her purse wasn't on the foyer table, she wasn't reading the morning paper at the breakfast nook table. There was no coffee, and it was so out of place to be standing here with Malachi and his Ghoulie friends. The sound of water shutting off upstairs brought everyone's attention back to Malachi; who was leaning against the countertop, watching Archie with amusement.

"I didn't hurt her Red. I had my boys bring breakfast and coffee." Feeling the need to explain was an unusual feeling for Malachi, more unusual for his friends to witness.

"I never said you hurt her." Archie came to stand at the kitchen island, across from Malachi. "I'm highly suspect of this situation."

"As you should be. I wouldn't want my gal-pal runnin' around with a gnarly drug pushin' hoodlum either." He took the words straight from Archie's thoughts. Archie gulped uncomfortably.

"Then you see why I'm apprehensive?" Letting his shoulders hang loose, Archie stuffed his hands into his pants pockets.

"I can understand. You see, a week ago, I was having coffee at Pop's. It's a thing I do, NA meeting, coffee and cake at Pop's, then home to bed. A girl stumbled in, no coat, no man, it was late. She was shivering, lips almost blue. Pop's sat her in the booth behind me, heater vent and all. I coulda swore I knew this chick right? That blonde hair, her sweet little voice. So I took a chance, sat at her booth, shared my cake with her. Come to find out, my arch nemesis Jughead Jones dropped this little beauty like a hot tamale. Seems her Serpent dance wasn't good enough, her showing loyalty to his club was bounds for termination of relationship." Malachi opened a bag, pulled several foil rolled burritos out and handed them to Archie. "You need some green chili with that. Ratso." His finger snapped and the younger kid with spiked shoulders and dark brown hair jumped from the corner and brought a bag to rest on the counter next to Archie.

"I didn't know that Jughead had dumped her. I would have stayed, but I got dumped myself that night. I didn't know Betty was going to dance either." Pulling a container from the bag, Archie opened a drawer and pulled out a spoon. Closing it with his hip.

"Neither here nor there Red, not your fault." Malachi's arms were crossed over his chest. He looked menacing, it was unnerving.

"Yeah, but I should have stayed." Unraveling foil and tortilla, steam rose from the eggs, cheese and chorizo. Archie ran a line of chili over the middle, then rolled it closed. He took a bite, eyes rolling closed as he chewed. "Oh my god."

Malachi smiled, winking at Ratso and Batso, they looked pleased with themselves. Archie continued to eat, Ratso and Batso helped themselves to some food. Malachi continued to speak as he put more coffee on.

"You see, you strike me as a good guy Red, lookin' out for Betty and all. You seem like a real good _friend._ " Archie swallowed, crumpling the foil in his fist. "You look like a quarterback too." Malachi smiled.

"Are you going somewhere with this or are we just going to talk about me?" Archie was ready for business to be laid out, no matter how good the food was.

"I like you Archie, straight to the point. A man after my own heart." He was all toothy grin now, large palms laid flat on the granite behind him. "You see, I can't be here all the time, and I've been out of school awhile. I got my cousin on Riverdale High duty, so that shouldn't be a problem. He's a Serpent too, so that's a double gold star for him, sorta." Archie couldn't help the surprise that spread across his face.

"Wait a second, your cousin is a Serpent, at Riverdale High?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure you know him, the mouthy little shit, Sweet Pea?" Malachi almost laughed as Archie rolled his eyes. They'd been acquainted, no need to introduce.

"Of course, the one guy I have literally been in a street fight with is your cousin. Awesome." He was already rolling a freshly sauced burrito and stuffing the end of it into his mouth.

"Yeah, he's an acquired taste Red, but he's one hell of a punch, and family is family, so…" Malachi let the sentence hang in the air.

"So you want me to keep an eye on Betty, make sure she, what? Doesn't hang around Jughead, doesn't become a full fledged Serpent? I don't get it." He rolled the second foil piece over the first and set it on the counter.

"I thought we could make an alliance. You know, I throw some jobs your way, you keep an extra eye on Betty. What can I say, I'm a little overprotective. The money is good thoutgh, and no Jingle Jangle. I promise." Malachi made an "X" over his heart with his finger. Archie thought about it. He could see why Betty would need watched. Penny was making threats before FP got out of jail. Now that Betty was showing her allegiance with the Serpents and had no real protection from Jughead, she was fair game.

"Okay, I'm in." Archie held out a hand to the Ghoulie leader, he smiled, nodded his head and shook Archie's hand.

"Sweet, let me get your number so we can rendezvous." They exchanged numbers, and Archie ate another burrito. Small talk amongst the four young men commenced for awhile before there was the sound of feet on the stairs.

Betty finally emerged from the top floor, bouncing down into the kitchen, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Archie? What are you doing here?" She hugged him, then came to stand next to Malachi, who protectively slipped an arm over her shoulders.

"I'm eating breakfast. You're lucky Malachi had the guys bring three dozen, these are amazing." He handed her a burrito, and the bowl of chili. Skeptically, she accepted them.

"Right Arch, I believe you." She said, turning around to unwrap her burrito.

"I invited Archie over for breakfast, had a business opportunity for him." Betty turned quickly, looking from Malachi to Archie.

"NO JINGLE JANGLE." It was chorus of four voices, they all chimed in to assure her that this would not be a criminal friendship.

"Okay." She waited for them to ease up, they all seemed like they were hiding something. In fact, she knew they were, but she reached for the burrito and took a bite instead.

"Oh my god." She moaned. Looking up into Malachi's eyes. "I love your Grandma Chi." She took another bite. His heart skipped a beat when she said 'Chi' instead of his full name. He tucked his lip under his top teeth to keep from devouring her.

"She'll be pleased to hear that." Ratso said from the other side of the kitchen. "I'm Ratso, you met my brother last night." He had walked over to her, clapped her on the shoulder then smiled. "You think I could a cuppa Miss Betty?"

"Oh yeah, of course. She went to the cupboard with mugs and pulled a couple out and set them by the coffee pot. Retrieving the creamer from the fridge she set it down as well. Batso took the coffees him and his brother had brought over from the microwave and set a set a cup down for Betty.

"Special, for the Lady." He winked at her, she smiled appreciatively at him.

"Thank you Batso." She sipped it. It was strong and complex, so much more than a regular coffee. "This is good!" She drank more. Feeling the warmth of alcohol wash over her tongue.

"Brought you a Mexican coffee. After last night and the tequila sunrise, it felt right." Batso mentally patted himself on the back.

"Thanks for pickin' everything up Bats, Ratso, I appreciate it." Malachi had devoured several burritos and half of his cup of Mexican coffee.

"No problem Boss. Ain't no thang. 'Sides, got see our girl Betty, and meet Red here." Ratso was all smiles.

Archie smiled at the pair, and then at Betty, he needed to get back home, he hadn't told his Dad he was leaving.

"I have to get going, my Dad doesn't know I left. He has a surprise for me in the garage. I suspect a car, might be needing your help soon." He hugged her despite the frown on Malachi's face. "Malachi, good to meet you under better circumstances. Ratso, Batso, thank you for the burritos. Catch ya later Betts." He left out of the back door, hopping the fence their yards shared.

"Too bad he's an honorary Serpent, he'd make one hell of a Ghoulie." Batso said, adding a shooter of tequila to his brother's mug.

"Whaddya do that for? I didn't want a Mexican thingy. Damn it. Here." He shoved the mug at his brother, disgust written on his features.

"It's not a Mexican thingy. It's just spiked coffee. Be a man Ratso." He shoved it back at him, took his cup of coffee and sat down at the breakfast table. Betty laughed a little, giving Malachi a sweet smile.

"Never a dull moment with them." He leaned over and kissed her. Savoring her flavor mixed with the tequila and coffee.

"I can see that. I like them. So, business?" She asked. Sipping her coffee. Feeling warm.

"Indeed. You have stuff to do or you gonna stay _Betts_?" He teased her, she rolled her eyes at him.

"I have some homework, I can stay in here if you want." His arms were wrapped around her, he was peppering her face with kisses.

"It's all on you babe, I like you being around. It's your place. Be where you're comfortable." Capturing her mouth with his, he nibbled her bottom lip. Her eyes slid closed.

"I'll get my bag and be down." Reluctantly he released her from his embrace. Missing her as soon as she left the room.

"Alright boys, lets get to it."


	5. Scott Pilgrim Vs Matthew Patel

**Scott Pilgrim vs. Matthew Patel**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

… **~*~...**

 **...several weeks later…**

It was the last class of the day, the clock could have been ticking backward for how slow it seemed to be going. Archie and Sweet Pea had been watching between class periods, both Betty and Jughead were none the wiser. In fact the two boys had become quite chummy, hanging out at the Whyte Wyrm and The House of the Dead, finding common ground. He had a job to do at the House of the Dead after school, he'd be catching a ride with Batso and Ratso, possibly Betty as well. It was simple, he would be using his building skills, they all knew who is his Dad was. Malachi was paying him nearly double what his would be Dad with a contractual agreement. It would help with the medical bills, and to pay for the parts for their project car in the garage.

Jotting down tonight's homework in his school planner, Archie quickly stacked his notebooks and shoved them haphazardly into his backpack. His leg was bouncing a mile a minute when the bell finally rang. He was up from his seat and out of the door in no time flat. Stopping by his locker, he looked around the hall, saw Sweet Pea round the corner and nod at him. With a lift of his chin at the taller boy, Archie pulled a hard hat from his open locker, and stuck it in the air as Sweet Pea swiftly walked past, taking it from Archie's outstretched hand. Looking around again, he took the second one from inside of his locker and shut the metal door. His pocket vibrated, alerting him to a message.

 _ **Here**_

Tucking the phone back into his back pocket, he pushed and shoved his way to the back doors, the parking lot out there was less conspicuous. Almost halfway to the double doors, Betty fell into step beside him. They said nothing, just kept walking. The less attention they drew the better. Each of them pushed a door open and stepped outside of the hulking building. The crisp fall air stung their warm skin, but they kept moving. There was a rehauled classic car at the back of the lot, bright red in color and very much the same car that raced against Reggies Super Sport.

The pair walked swiftly, in silence to the running car. Both doors sung open, the seats moving forward to grant their entrance. Once inside, the seats moved back in place, and the doors closed. The engine roared as they took off from the back of the lot, passing by a group of motorcycles on their way out.

It was a clean getaway, Sweet Pea had made sure that the other Serpents were in the office of the Blue and Gold, some new story. Something to keep them occupied while he rode the extra thirty minutes past the Whyte Wyrm to The House of the Dead to help his cousin knock down walls and maybe have some family time. Fangs would come around later on, after Jughead went to find solace in a game of pool at the Wyrm with Toni. With the hard hat strapped to his bike, Sweet Pea pushed out of his space and sped toward the Southside.

Betty watched the familiar trees give way for businesses and taller buildings. She let her head rest on the back of the seat, feeling a little too sleepy for her own good. She'd spent far too much time talking to Malachi the last couple of weeks at least that's what her Mother told her. He had given out strict instructions to Batso and Ratso, that particular Saturday morning. Her Mom had come home after the boys had left with their packages, thank goodness. When Alice came waltzing into the kitchen, she had found Betty and Malachi cleaning up and laughing. Malachi hugged Alice, she pinched his cheek and told him to be careful with her daughter. Going over the many hours of conversation, the way Malachi made her laugh, warmed her heart and pulled out of her shell. He had become far more than a friend, their makeout sessions often becoming heated, leading her to pull away from him, always wanting more. They never had the proper talk about whether they were exclusive or not, however, she knew that they were.

Smiling to herself, her thoughts took a turn for the dangerously inappropriate. Their last encounter was in her kitchen, he'd brought her another Mexican coffee, courtesy of Batso himself. Her Mother had some last minute changes to the next days paper, and had taken off early that Sunday. Feeling quite good about Malachai being alone with her in her pajamas again. (She'd picked out some new ones on a shopping trip Veronica.) Malachai couldn't resist her in the embroidered ivory shorts and lavender crop top camisole. He'd swept her up in his arms, dismissing her coffee and the looks of the neighbors when she squeaked. Once inside the house, he had his mouth all over her, hands skimming over the skin of her abdomen, quickly reaching around her to pinch her round ass. It took her totally by surprise when he lifted her with his hands to sit on the countertop of the island in the kitchen. Her legs were on either side of his hips, fingertips grazing over his hard muscled torso.

She had to stop thinking about such things. It was all consuming, everyday, she even dreamed about him. Seeing that stellar smile of his everytime she closed her eyes. She could feel the ghosts of his hands over almost every inch of her body, she burned for him. She longed to smell the sweet spice of his cologne mixed with his distinct brand of cigarettes. Needed to taste those cigarettes mingled with tequila and his own personal flavor, it could have been heroine to her for how she longed to taste him. Her Mother had commented a few times about how close they seemed to be getting. That his Grandma had mentioned on more than one occasion that she had wanted to meet Betty already. It wasn't something Malachai had brought up, and she wouldn't push him, because he wasn't pushing her.

When she finally opened her eyes, they were pulling around the front of The House of the Dead, her heart began to beat wildly, she missed Malachai these last few days, despite their long phone conversations. Chancing a glance at Archie, he looked like he might literally be dying of a heart attack.

"Arch, you alright?" Her hand grasped his forearm, he met her imploring stare.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just worried if someone seen us leave." His leg was bouncing violently, up and down, up and down.

"Who cares Archie? It's no one's business but ours. We aren't obligated to anyone. We answer to no one." Betty met Batso's blue gray eyes in the rearview, he was smiling.

"You answer to no one huh? Kinda funny you say it like that. Jughead might have a different philosophy, among others." His brow arched quickly as he smacked his gum.

"I don't give a _damn_ what Jughead thinks." Betty slid back into her seat, grabbing at her backpack, knowing they were almost to the top floor of the parking garage.

"Good to know." Batso put the car in park, his brother was awfully quiet, he exited the car first, pushing the seat back for Archie to get out.

"This is gonna be fun Batso. You gonna teach us some real construction shit Red?" Ratso stretched his arms high above his head, his studded leather hiking up the shirt underneath, revealing a large skull tattoo on his ribcage. Betty let her eyes linger there for a moment.

"Oh yeah, well, what I can anyway." Archie said, pulling on his backpack straps nervously.

"Don't let Malachai catch you checkin' out my little brother, one a ya's will get black eyes. My money's on Ratso." He winked at her, took his key for the elevator door out and pushed the button.

"You're real cute and all Betty, but I like my balls where they are. 'Sides, Mal doesn't do well with sharing." They all stood in the elevator together, Batso watching the uncomfortable way that Betty ignored his brother's admission.

"Whatsa matter Betty?" Batso asked, shoving the key into the keyhole.

"He wouldn't really castrate you for me looking at your tattoo." She crossed her arms over her middle.

"I mean, I wouldn't put it past him. You seen how he reacted when you and your richy friend were hanging out at the mall. I mean they guy was just doing his job, he has to hand you your bags." The doors slid open, revealing the club from before. Ratso and Batso stepped out.

"Welcome back to The House of the Dead." Ratso turned in a circle with his hands up, winking at Betty devilishly.

"Okay Rats, enough. Come on kiddies, lets find the boss." Batso walked swiftly through the club, past the dance floor and the booth Betty had shared with Malachai. He pushed on the wall behind the booth and a door swung in. Ducking through doorway, he motioned for the others to follow.

"Yous guys hungry? I can order in some stuff before we get to work." Batso turned around, pulling a cigarette from the pack he now held.

"That sounds great! I'm starving!" Archie answered. Betty side smiled at him, knowing he was a bottomless pit.

"Here's Malachi's office." Ratso knocked on the worm wooden door, then continued on his way down the hallway.

"Thanks guys. See you soon Archie." Waiting for the door to open, she leaned against the door jam.

"Yeah, later Betts." He waved over his shoulder, taking in the dilapidated hallway structures.

When the door swung open, Betty stood straight. Suddenly conscious of the fact that she was wearing her usual attire, pastel sweater over a sweet laced shirt, skinny jeans and keds. Her hair was in her signature ponytail. She felt alien in the hallway, like she needed to run home and change.

"There's my girl." Malachi's deep voice caught her attention, when she looked up at him, her nervousness melted away. Her hands found the warmth of his skin under his unbuttoned shirt, fingers grasping for him to be closer to her.

"I missed you." She said, rising on her tiptoes to meet his mouth with her own.

"I missed you too beautiful. His thumbs rubbed over the apples of her cheeks as he took in her sweet face. "Look at you, all innocent Northsider."

"Stop it, I forgot to dress for The House of the Dead. Honest mistake." With one last peck on her lips, Malachi took her hand in his, tugging her into his office before slamming the door closed and locking it.

"I'm just glad you're here, we have to figure out more time together." He came to a stop at an old victorian style couch, covered in black velvet and chipped black paint, and sat down, beckoning her to join him. She smiled and sat down next to him.

"This doesn't feel too fast to you?" She asked, worrying her lip.

"I do most everything fast. Ride fast, drive fast, fall fast." He wagged his brows at her, licking his lips.

"It doesn't bother you? It doesn't feel weird to you?" Betty had felt some reservation, moving on so quickly with Malachi, but it quickly faded when he started to reason with her.

"I think, you should go with your heart. Do what feels _good_. I don't give two shits what Jughead thinks. I'm happy with you, I _want_ you. I usually get what I want Betty." His long fingers were smoothing along the side of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. She liked the delicious heat moving through her veins at his touch. She wanted him too, wasn't sure how it was possible, but she almost craved him.

"That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?" Her palm was skimming over the stubble on Malachi's chin.

"Nah, I think it's perfect. You bein' my Lady and all." He was so close to her, his heat radiated into her.

" _I'm_ your Lady? How? You haven't asked me to be your girlfriend Chi. I stand by my previous statement, I'd say you're presumptuous." Her voice was low, direct and sending him into overdrive.

"Alright beautiful, you win. I'm presumptuous, but you like it. You like that I take control, and that I only want to be about you. I think you like it, bein' my girl." He kissed her quickly.

"How do you know what I like?" Malachi was leaning further into her, instinctually, she leaned back into the arm of the couch.

"Oh baby girl, I know all kinds of things. So whaddya say Betty, be my Lady?" He tugged her legs over his lap, his eyes holding hers captive. Her breath hitched. A new wave of heat surged through her, it had bloomed from her heart this time. A smile formed on her lips, encouraging Malachi to get even closer to her. Lifting her left leg up with his large hand, he slid between the valley of her thighs. Silently, she shook her head yes, not trusting her own voice. His eyes lit up.

"Yeah?!" He was ecstatic.

"Yeah." She mimicked his broad smile and shook her head again.

"God, you're so fuckin' perfect." He lay a palm over her thigh, hiking it up over his side, then kissed her.

Gently, he pressed himself into her, his tongue traced the inside of her lips. Betty no longer felt heat deep inside her, it was fire. Flames lapping at the walls of her heart, flowing like a molten river through her veins, surging quickly to every nerve ending in her body when he push his hips into her for the second time. Humming her approval of his assault on her mouth, she let her own tongue explore his.

"You're gonna kill me beautiful. Death by fire, what a lovely way to burn." Again, he pressed himself to her. Pulling away with a smack of their lips, Betty gasped for air, her hands tangled in his wild dark brown locks.

There was a loud bang on the office door, Betty jumped about six feet in the air. She scrambled away from him, a teenage reflex, not wanting to get into trouble by her Mom and Dad for letting her new boyfriend semi seduce her on the couch. He smiled at her, loving the innocence she exuded.

"Relax babe, we aren't in the kitchen at your house. This is my house. You're not gonna get in any trouble here." He kissed her, stood and adjusted himself in his jeans, then answered the door.

"I'm not meanin' to bother ya boss, but there seems to be a problem _upstairs_." Batso motioned with a thumb toward the other end of the hallway.

"No problem Bats, but did Pea ever make it?" Malachi scratched the back of his head.

"Hasn't made it yet, that's part of the problem. We have some…" Batso looked from Betty back to Malachi. "... _company_."

"Serpents?" Malachi was not in the mood in for this, they were just supposed to fix the first floor, knock down a couple of walls and paint. Dealing with angry Serpent ex boyfriends wasn't on the to-do list for today.

"Yeah. A few of them. Jughead wants to discuss boundaries or some shit." Batso turned, there were raised voices coming from the floor above.

"Jesus man, what am I, Scott Pilgrim versus the Southside? Fuck!" Malachi turned around, walked to his desk and pulled a drawer open. Lifting the false bottom from it, he noticed Betty's imploring stare. "It's just boundary maps babe."

Pulling a folder from the drawer, Batso stepped forward to take it from Malachi, Betty eased slightly. Standing up, she smoothed over her thighs with her hands, not wanting to see Jughead at all.

"Alright, you ready to take on your evil ex-boyfriend Betty?" Batso asked with a wink in her direction.

"Hopefully we don't have to battle in the street. It'd be difficult to explain the fireballs and demon hipster chicks Jughead may summon." Malachi pulled his cutte on, then pulled his fingerless gloves on, smiling at Betty.

"What makes you think he's not Gideon Graves?" Betty crossed her arms over her chest, a hip popping out for good measure. Malachi's eyebrow drew up, a smirk on his smug face.

"Oh please! He couldn't even have vegan powers, much less lead The League of Betty's Evil Exes." Holding his hand out for Betty to take, she shook her head and took it.

"Jughead is definitely Matthew Patel. Too bad you only get two dollars and forty cents in change if you manage to defeat him Chi." Betty smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. She could get through this, no matter how awkward or difficult. Malachi was good to her, good for her. They were good for each other.

"Jeez you two make me sick. I may blow chunks. Let's deal with this Jughead Patel, Matthew Jones shit already." Batso waved a hand in the air before exiting the office.

…~*~...

"It's real cute that you have your goons picking Betty and Archie up to do God knows what, but Riverdale is Serpent territory." Jughead jabbed a finger into the page between him and Malachi, staring daggers at his former girlfriend and his best pal.

"That's where you're wrong Jughead. We have Ghoulies at both Greendale and Riverdale. We just don't brandish patches." Malachi placed a hand over Betty's thigh, very much possessively. He didn't like how Jughead was looking at her. There was a burst of pride in his chest when Jughead's eyes flashed to Malachi's hand. It was almost comical when Jughead pursed his lips and looked the other way.

"That changes thing then. We need to exchange information. Preferably _alone_." Sitting back in his chair, Jughead's leather creaked, the only audible thing amidst the silence of the half construction zone.

"How is talking alone gonna make a difference? I have ten guys at Greendale and fourteen at Riverdale. There's no bikes, just cages. They keep to themselves and I can promise, there's no Jingle Jangle." Betty looked from Malachi to Jughead, worried that this could all end in a bad way. She took hold of Malachi's hand, squeezing it for her own security. The smile he sent her way could stop traffic, she blushed and looked to their joined hands.

"Okay, we can work with that. We have twelve at Riverdale and at least twenty at Greendale." Archie chimed in, always a ray of sunshine. Jughead looked irritated to say the least.

"Thanks _Pal_. I think this is the reason we should have done this privately, but we can't go back now." Jughead looked at Betty once more, she was frowning at him, something he was becoming accustomed to lately. "What's the point in boundaries if we just stomp all over them?" He asked, clasping his hands together.

"That's what I keep asking myself. We aren't runnin' turf wars Jug, we're simply at an impasse. We like racing cars and partying until we can't stand anymore. You guys like stripper poles in bars and ridin' bikes. What's the problem, why can't we just get along?" There was an air of arrogance in Malachi's tone, he was a little more than pissed that Jughead thought they were on different sides of the outlaw spectrum.

"We can't get along because you guys deal Jingle Jangle to high school students and some of them have died." Jughead's voice was harsh, anger evident in his rapidly increasing volume.

"Used to deal Jingle Jangle. We sell green just like you do, we run car parts. Just. Like. You. Do. We aren't so different you and me. Stop tryin' to draw lines where there aren't any." Malachi's tone was clear and deadly low. He wasn't one to yell when his blood began to boil, he was silently volatile, it worked for him.

"There's lines to define where Ghoulies stand and Serpents stand. Lines to separate drug dealing, criminals from hard working Motorcycle Clubs. There's the difference." Leaning in closer to Malachi now, Jughead searched the Ghoulie's face for any sign of cracking. He wouldn't find it today.

"You're funny, you know that? That bar you're so goddamned proud of? It was bought with drug money. The trailer park you live in, the tin can where you rest your head, bought with money from the all boxes that fell off of trucks before you were pissin' in your diapers. Don't act so high and mighty Jughead. The entire Southside was funded by criminal activity, and your club was half of it." A studded leather hand lay flat over the map of Southside. "I'm not feelin' this enemy shit man. I just want to chill with my Lady, have a good time with my boys and ride the streets I grew up on."

Jughead sat there dumbfounded. He had no idea what to say, no earthly clue as to what could possibly follow Malachi's honesty. Swallowing thickly, he scratches his head through his beanie, looking anywhere but at his ex girlfriend and her new beau.

"You're really turning over a new leaf?" Jughead was curious now.

"New leaf, new life. I'm done with Penny. Let's just say, I have clearer vision." He wasn't trying to fight the Serpents, wasn't out here for blood.

"Alright then. I can get behind that. So we call off this," Looking around the room, Jughead waved a hand in the air. "feud?"

"I think we can do that. I think we _should_ do that." Malachi took his hand back from Betty. Holding it out to Jughead over the table.

"Truce." They said, shaking on it.

"So do we split the two dollars and forty cents or call it even?" Leave it to Batso to break the heavy mood.


	6. Little Boxes

**Little Boxes**

… **~*~...**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

…~*~...

"I think it's great, you know, how you guys are all so chummy. You go over there to The House of the Dead, hang drywall and paint." Leaning against the counter in Archie's kitchen, Jughead's leg was bobbing up and down. He'd had a nervous energy since earlier in the day, when he'd shaken Malachi's hand. He wanted to ask about Betty, if she was okay, happy. He didn't, simply let his unease shake out through the bottom of shoe.

"Yeah, I can tell Jug. You're getting a little better at lying." Archie was doing his best to get his homework done. Jughead had shown up unannounced, a bag of Pop's and a couple of shakes in hand. How could he turn his friend away when there was clearly a problem, and food? Besides, it was probably better that Jughead be here bugging the hell out of him instead of binge drinking on a Tuesday at The Whyte Wyrm.

"Right. I can't exactly lie to you, you're like my brother." Hanging his head, Jughead reached up and tore the beanie from his head. His inky tendrils spilling in a wild mess over his face. Shifting his weight to the other leg, he began to bounce the free one now.

"I wish you could keep that in mind when you're flopping your dick around in male dominance. Malachi doesn't want a measuring contest. He's trying to turn things around." Placing the pencil down over the long seemingly never ending math equation, Archie turned to look at Jughead.

"I can see how I seem like a monstrous jerk, but you've got to see what's going on, don't you? How he has Betty quiet and complacent by his side. She didn't say a word the whole time. He speaks for her now. Did you hear about the guy at the mall?" Walking the few steps from the counter to the table, Jughead placed his hands on the back of a chair, gripping it so tight his knuckles were blanched white.

"I see a guy who messed up with the girl he seems to care a lot about. I see that same guy burning down every bridge he's ever made in an effort to bring her back. Unfortunately, all you're doing is pushing her further away from you. You're not handling this well, and you're the one who created it." Archie picked his pencil back up, scratching the tip against the lined paper. "Besides, Malachi is kind of good for her. He doesn't speak for her, it wasn't her place to speak at the meeting. Just like its not mine either."

"That's really how you see this?" Jughead felt betrayed by Archie for the second time today. Taking a step back, he put the hat back on. Reached for his leather on the counter where'd been standing before, slipping it over his arms. "I need some air."

Without another word, Jughead tugged open the back door and stepped out onto the patio. It felt like there was a fissure in his chest, a definite crack that tore through to his heart. Being torn between wanting to leave and drown his sorrows in beer and endless pool, and doing his best to find a way to move past this uneasy feeling he had.

It was dark in the backyards of the surrounding houses, nothing other than the moon's glow and the dim light spilling from inside of the kitchen behind him. He could hear nothing but air moving through dry yellowing leaves and his own breathing, until the porch light of the house to his left came on. He could see the wooden porch steps leading to the nice and neat Cooper deck, fully equipped with a propane grill and patio furniture. It was an odd occurrence for the Coopers to be lounging in their yard after the sun had set, unless they were having a party of some sort, but Archie would have mentioned it.

There was a click of the door being unlocked, then it swung open, a low chuckle came from the darkness of the doorway. Jughead recognized the deep chortle, despite it being completely out of place in the darkness of Betty's yard. His heart felt like it had been smashed between a book and a wall, like he'd been squashed and smeared, a pest to be rid of. Not wanting to alert anyone to his presence, he stayed seated on weathered, chipping wood slats. He watched and listened, aware of how totally fucked in the head he really was; a glutton for punishment. All he wanted to see was how these two totally opposite human beings could possibly have anything in common. It was a compulsion for Jughead, to figure out what Malachi could possibly give her that he could not. So there he sat, face between the wooden bars, splinters be damned, watching the only girl he'd ever loved sit in the lap of a Ghoulie he despised. Wishing like hell he'd never told her to go.

"I'm so glad this day is almost over, no offense, I'm just so tired." Betty let her head rest on Malachi's, temple to temple, eyes closed.

"I know what you mean. That's why I wanted to sit out here with you. Let the cool air wash away the day. Well, some of it. There are some things, I will personally be committing to memory." Two of his fingers came up to her face, the pads of each one pressing into her temple, she smiled, eyes still closed.

"Yeah, I'd rather not forget them either." She said, smiling into the darkness.

"You don't know how much you mean to me." Tugging his head from hers, he placed his palm over the side of her neck, a thumb rubbing gently over the edge of her jaw.

"Are you trying to make me blush?" Her eyelids slid open, a small half smile still on her lips. Betty's heart bloomed with warmth. He always did this to her, filled her with so much emotion. His one liners and simple sentences could bring her to tears with how utterly beautiful his soul was.

"Making you blush is a bonus. That's how you won my heart, remember?" Leaning forward, his fingers pulled her closer to him.

"How could I forget? One of the worst nights of my life turned into one of the best." It was her turn to run her fingers over the planes of his faces, to take in the way his jaw tightened as she licked her lips.

"You're killin' me, you know that?" A hand slid from her face down the side of her body, he noted that she shivered a little. His hand came to rest over the swell of her hip, he squeezed it a little, pulling her into his lap harder.

"I didn't do anything, I'm just sitting here Malachi." She said, snaking her arm around the back of his head. His eyes darting between hers.

"You're beautiful Betty. So fuckin' perfect." His smile was stellar, blinding in the pale orangey light of the singular light bulb behind them.

"Why do you say that all of the time?" She didn't mind it, not from him. It was just something she never associated with herself, he made it sound good, it made her stomach flutter. No one had ever said it the way he did. She was perfect Betty Cooper, the princess of Riverdale. He made it sound provocative, alluring, it enticed her entirely.

"Cuz you are babe. You just don't see yourself." He kissed her quickly. "I see a sweet, smart, confident, _sexy_ girl. When you let that ponytail loose, fuck me runnin'! You make my skin tingle."

"Your skin tingles? Isn't that a bad thing? Like when your foot falls asleep?" He squeezed her again, biting his lip and smiling.

"Nah babe, it's perfect. It's the greatest high I've ever had. Jingle Jangle ain't got shit on how you make me feel. I think I could…" He stopped mid sentence, eyes searching hers. "I've never, before, but I think I might…"

"You might what?" She could feel the uncertainty rolling off of him in waves. He adjusted himself in the seat, sitting up straighter now.

"I might be fallin' for ya kid. Hard." Betty's mouth fell open, shock written all over her face.

"What?" She swallowed hard. A different kind of heat lapping through her chest.

"I think I'm fallin' for you Betty. Can't eat, can't sleep, can't even slang weed without thinkin' about you." Malachi hoped this wasn't backfiring, that she'd accept what he was saying to her and go with it. Not overanalyze it to death like she did everything else.

"I don't know what to say Malachi." Betty's lips were turned up at the corners, she wanted to jump and run through the streets. Despite her totally unkempt emotional responses, he still wanted to be with her.

"You don't have to say anything beautiful. I'm just putting it out there." His smile and his words made her heart pound furiously.

"I wish you could stay." She tucked her head beneath his chin, his arms wrapping around her.

"Me to babe. Maybe you can stay with me sometime. I could bring you home for family dinner, finally meet Abuela. She might hurt me if I don't bring you home soon." She laced her fingers through his, relishing the warmth he radiated.

"Maybe this weekend." She turned her head a little, kissing the top his clavicle.

"I'll ask your Mom in the morning." Kissing her head with a smack, she turned to look at him.

"You're going to ask my Mom if I can sleep with you?" Her eyes were wide, she sat up tall in his lap.

"Not exactly, I was just going to ask if you could stay the night with me. Hands off for the most part." He waggled his brows, lifting his hips up, she bounced a little bit. "I can ask if you really want me to."

"What? No! You can't ask her that. Oh my goodness Malachi, don't you dare!" She slapped pat his arm playfully, smiling nervously.

"Come on beautiful, it'd be great. I could bring her some flowers, sit her down at the nook. Tell her how much you rile me up." His hands were on her waist now, pulling her over the tops of his thighs.

"You can not ever say those things to her." Betty would die if her Mom ever knew what they got up to when she worked early or late, or when he would sneak in through Betty's bedroom window.

"Chill, I'd never tell her anything Betty. I'll ask her if you can come over Saturday. Clear your weekend. You're all mine beautiful." His lips were on her, thumbs rubbing circles over her cheeks. He parted her lips with his insistent tongue, biting her lip then going back to devour her mouth.

Her legs spread wider over the tops of his thighs, pressing herself into him further. Their makeout sessions had become something she looked forward to. He engulfed her senses, made her wish she could feel only him. She prayed while she lay in bed at night, that one day she would feel only him, his bare flesh warm against hers, a love deep and thriving for only him.

There was a scuffle over in Archies yard, it was loud enough that Betty pulled abruptly from the insistent mouth on her own. Despite the low light in the opposite yard, there was barely a beam coming from the back door. She seen the flash of light over a chrome button, then the stark white shirt between the black leather lapels. Jughead shot up like a bolt of lightning, grabbing for door handle.

"Jesus, Jug!" Betty was standing now, nearing the edge of the patio. "What The hell are you doing?"

"Get goddamn a room." He smashed through the kitchen door, startling Archie. He said nothing as he jogged through the house to the front door. Ripping open the door and flinging himself back outside into the dark, he slammed the door shut. His bike felt like it was a million miles away, even if he ran for it, it still wouldn't be close enough. There wasn't enough speed in his step to get him seated on the damn bike before he heard Betty's front door being wrenched open.

"What the hell Jughead?" You're spying on me now?" A tiny fist made contact with his bicep, he whipped around in shock.

"Did you just hit me Betty?" His heart felt like it had a fresh throbbing gaping hole punched into it. He wished he could take it all back, turn his words and actions into something he could actually stand behind.

"Don't change the subject Jughead. What the hell is wrong with you?" Betty's fists clenched at her sides, nails biting at the scars on her palm.

"I was out there trying to think. Trying to clear my head of this whole fucked up month. Then there you were, with _him._ You don't owe me anything Betty, and I certainly don't owe you." Long legs straddled the seat of the weathered motorcycle. Pressing the button on one of the handlebars had the engine sputtering to life. Betty was right beside, him now.

"Doesn't change the fact that you were listening and watching. You're a piece of work Jug." Arms crossed, Betty turned on her heel. She walked determinedly back to her house, to the smiling goating Ghoulie standing at the door, ajar and glowing from the inside out. She stopped and whirled around again. "You know what? No! You don't get to lurk in Archies backyard and act like we were willing participants in your voyeurism. You can't be upset with me when you drew first blood."

Malachi knew what it must have looked like to Jughead, him standing there smiling as Betty punched him in the arm and did her best to put him in his place. Truth be told, he was proud of her. She kept so much to herself, inside of her neat little boxes of avoidance. Spending so much time tidying the closets full of skeletons that she she never paid much attention to how it filled her up in all the wrong ways.

He had done his best in the last month to nudge open a door and throw all of her crazy around in the wind. She'd let him see some of it, small boxes filled to the brim with childhood secrets and traumas. She trusted him enough to let him rifle through drawers of her life, seaking out tiny indications of who she really was. He'd become addicted to the familiar pop of the lids, another hit of knowing Betty inside and out. Knowing his sponsor would frown upon his new found drug, he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. All he wanted for the rest of his days was for Betty to love him. His love for her was growing like vines over a beautifully landscaped garden wall. Each tender leaf growing large and full and strong, the stems taking root in the fertile soil beneath. How could it be detrimental to his sobriety, to have this girl to love completely?

"First blood Betty? I was trying to keep you safe from Penny, and here you are, _sleeping_ with the enemy. I'm surprised you're not dancing in the Ghoulie bar in Greendale." Malachi started downa step, angry at the hateful words that fell from Jughead's mouth. Archie had joined them by now,c brows knit together in confusion over what exactly was happening. "What's next, you two shack up and start the next generation of Southside trash? Look at you Betty, your neck is covered in love bites and people are supposed to respect you like that?" He was standing up over his bike seat, knuckles white over the handlebars. Regretting his words as soon as they left his mouth, Betty's face made his heart break further. The crack in his chest a full on fissure, bleeding profusely from every severed edge.

"How…" A huge tear fell from her eye, splattering on the sidewalk. "We aren't…" Sucking in a huge breath, her throat constricted with pain. "Fuck. You. Jughead Jones." squaring her shoulders, she stood tall despite her immensely aching heart. Hugging her cardigan to her, she turned one last time from Jughead and walked determinedly back to the house. Into Malachi's open arms. Archie shook his head at his friend, and went back inside.

Rubbing her back, Malachi met Jughead's tear filled stare. He shook his head at the younger boy. Malachi knew she needed to be pushed sometimes, to be independent, but he'd never chastise her or tell her what was wrong with her. There was nothing wrong her, not even a little bit. Jughead swiped at the tear. Rolling down his face then revved the bike and went sailing down the street. Betty hugged Malachi tighter, letting her tears seep into the bare skin of chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm not crying over him" Her voice was thick with emotion.

"Shh. You don't need to explain to me. I understand. And Betty?" Soggy green eyes looked up into his. "I'm proud of you." A wide toothy smile spread across his face.

"Oh god." She laughed, a snotty teary laugh, giving Malachi a final squeeze before letting go.

"I am babe. It's about time you speak your mind. Besides, it was hot when you said "fuck". You have a dirty mouth." His tongue snaked out, moistening his lips, meaning to catch her attention, it did.

"I hardly think my anger is attractive." She looked down at her palms, she hadn't drawn blood, just raised the scars a little. He took her hands in his own, kissing each little half moon, all eight. Then he kissed her fingers, out in the open on the front porch.

"Everything you do is attractive to me. Don't act like you're a disfigured beast, I may have to bend you over my knee, maybe send you to bed for a time out." He winked at her, her mouth agape. She was frozen with how brazen his choice of words was. It sent that cinnamon heat coursing through her body, sweet and fire, all consuming in the chilled winter air. She liked it so much, she didn't want him to stop talking in that hushed low tone he had. He tipped her head up, wiping away the tears from her cheeks.

"Can you stay a little longer?" She didn't want to be alone, and he didn't either.

"I can stay beautiful, anything for you." Then he led her back inside.


	7. Bad Reputation

**Bad Reputation**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to The Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

…~*~...

"Look FP, I'm not sayin' this is grounds for anything other than Jughead gettin' his head on straight. He crossed a line, sayin' what he did to Betty. It had to happen, they needed to hash it out, but he was cruel. If he starts shit with her again, I'm not gonna promise you he won't come home bruised." Malachi had leaned forward in his seat, a golden brown french fry nestled between his fingers. FP flinched, torn between wanting to protect his son and letting the kid fall on his ass.

"What the hell did he say to her? You know what, nevermind, I'll keep a leash on him. I did hear about the truce though, and how you're helpin' out Archie with a job. You're doin' good kid. Better than I thought you would." FP took another sip of his coffee.

"As far as doing good, I kind of have a reason now. Archie, he's a good guy, I like him. He's gonna make one helluva Serpent someday." There was a hint of sadness in Malachi's voice. He shoved several fries into his mouth.

"Hey, you would have made an incredible Serpent. I shouldn't have listened to your brother. I was all fucked up, Gladys was starting to pull away. I regret it Mal." FP was serious, no hint of sarcasm. Malachi found a little relief in what he was saying.

"Couldn't hope for a patch over, eh Boss? Might cause a civil war." He smiled wide, then downed half his coke. "I gave up wantin' a snake bite a while ago."

"If we clear this shit up, squash this beef between everyone, we could talk patch over. Alma would be proud." FP winked and got back to his coffee. He'd been hoping for this type of interaction when Malachi reached out. It was a long time coming. Especially when they had fried Penny big time with the Jingle Jangle.

"She would huh?" Half smiling, Malachi ate the last of his fries. Wiping his greasy fingers on the napkin in his lap. "Betty already pledged as a Serpent anyway. If we're talkin' patch over, we have some archaic laws that need to be fixed. But that's for another time. Ready for our meeting?" Malachi threw a couple twenties on the table, stacking plates and napkins on the edge for the waitress to retrieve.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Another day closer to that sixty day chip. Let's do it." They rose from the table, leather creaking loudly as they did. It was FP's turn to drive to Greendale, so Malachi got comfy in the cab of the truck, lighting a cigarette as soon as FP started the engine. It was part of their pact they'd made in the joint. Get rid of Penny, Jingle Jangle, and get clean for the sake of their families and clubs. If they became friends then so be it. The friends part was looking to be a necessity, they leaned on each other a lot.

"What's this I hear about Betty meeting Alma this weekend? Alice has been a little batty thinking about it. What it all means." FP kept his vision on the road, he wasn't trying to be the protective Father in this situation, no matter how it looked.

"This is good FP, you being a good step-dad and all. I didn't have that, not that it would've made a difference. I'm takin' my lady to meet my family, it's not a big deal." Flicking the butt of the cigarette out of the window, Malachi rolled the window up with the manual lever.

"Just takin' your _lady_ to meet _your_ family, means more than just baked chicken and rice Malachi. Does Betty know that what she's in for?" It had started to sprinkle, drops of water misting over the windshield as they sped over the one road into Greendale.

"No, she doesn't. I don't know how to broach the subject." Pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head, his wild curls splayed over his eyes. It was better this way, not being able to see the giant pile shit he was about to jump into.

"You afraid she won't go through with it?" FP glanced sideways at the kid.

"It's not like that, my Grams will start asking questions you know? She's old school, wants to live that old world life. She still wears black to mourn my Gramps you know." He was uncomfortable. This is why he kept things to himself, why he left things up in the air, watched them fall where they may.

"I went to one Cardenas Family dinner Malachi, and let me tell you, I wish someone had told me what I was in for." FP looked at him again, their eyes met briefly.

"It's not a marriage proposal FP damn! It's just a family dinner." There was a nervous laugh that crept out of him, he looked back out of the window, the trees a mash of green and yellow and orange. Like a paint pallet, all the colors bleeding together with paint thinner. Like everyone's lives, bleeding together, pieces of each other in every possible corner of the canvas.

"Right, you keep telling yourself that, and your Grandma. You have at least thirty cousins, most of which are either Serpents or Ghoulies. You have no clue what your family is like to a person who comes from a small family." FP pulled into the recreation center parking lot, putting the truck into park, water sluicing over the glass. "I'm just saying, she's expecting you and your Grandma, maybe Sweet Pea and Fil. She's not expecting most of the Southside and a mariachi band."

"True true. I guess I can talk to her on the way there. Why's everyone all scared of my family, it's not that bad." Malachi put his hand on the door handle, waiting for FP's response.

"Okay, that many people in a backyard can get rowdy. You guys are rowdy enough with the booze and food and women." FP opened his door, popping a piece of gum into his mouth, offering one to Malachi, he took it.

"I like to think of us as spicy, but I get what you mean. Alright let's, stay sober Boss."

…~*~...

Betty walked through the cafeteria, a tray of food in her hands, she was looking for someone in particular. Spotting him behind a pillar in the farthest corner of the large open room, she picked up her pace, determination in every stride. Clanking her tray down onto the table, she ignored the stares from the other Serpents, especially Jughead, then sat down at the table.

"Hey there princess. What brings you all the way over here, we gettin' another show or what?" One of the guys laughed, slapping his friends on the arms. She gave him a death glare, and turned back to the one person she needed to speak to.

"Come on doll face, we already seen ya in your skivvies, why not finish the show?" He brayed like a donkey, she felt sick to her stomach. Jughead said nothing, kept his head down in the book he was reading.

"Why don't you suck a dick Trey?" Sweet Pea stood now, hands flat against the table top, careful not to hit Betty's food.

"Excuse me, are you out of your mind? I'm just messin' with her. She wants to be a Serpent, she better fuckin' get used to the banter Sweet Pea." The guy was wide in his shoulders, a lot shorter than Sweet Pea. He stepped up to the table, putting down his milk. "What is she to ya anyway? She ain't with Jughead anymore, she's fair game."

Betty felt a sharp pain in her chest at the boy's words. She hadn't thought that through, how here pledging allegiance would affect her after Jughead. She looked at him, his jaw was set in a moody way. He didn't dare look her way, didn't even try to stand up for her.

"She's not Jug's, not mine either, but if you fuck with her, the one she does belong to will find you Trey." Sweet Pea sat down, looked her over, then looked back at the other Serpent who was now laughing.

"What the hell, I'm so scared, please no, don't hurt me Sweet Pea! Who the fuck do you think you are princess? Pitting brother against brother." He was laughing quite loudly now, sitting in the chair across from her.

"I don't think you get it. In fact, if you knew who's she was, you'd be more respectful." Archie was behind her now, eyes cast down on Trey, who was still laughing. Jughead chuckled to himself, shaking his head

"Oh my bad, big brother football star." He flung his hands up in the air. "What's this club comin' to anyway? Sweet little cheerleader princesses and quarterbacks who don't know how to shut the hell up. Some scary ass shit if you ask me." He leaned over the table, trying to catch her eyes with his own.

"You ever had your occipital bone crushed by a Ghoulies bare hand?" Sweet Peas was deadly quiet. Eyes narrowed dangerously at the other boy.

"No, I haven't. Ghoulies are trash. I'd pummel the guy who even tried to touch me." Trey's smirk was plastered to his smug face.

"I've already sent it to him. He got the video, message says read." Archie told Sweet Pea, showing him the phone. They nodded at each other, an unspoken agreement between them.

"You sent him a video?" Jughead looked angry, this was going to be bad. "Who's side are you on?"

"I'm on nobody's side. The sooner you patch things up, the better. See ya later Betty, Sweet Pea." Archie walked away, nothing more to say.

"He's gonna show up here and cause problems. That what you want Betty?" Jughead was defensive.

"Oh, now you speak to me? Because your stupid brother might get his feathers ruffled?" Her brow furrowed. "I didn't come over here to talk to you, either of you. I came to talk about family dinner on Saturday, with Sweet Pea." It went quiet around the table, everyone looking from Betty to Sweet Pea then over to Jughead.

"Jesus Sweet Pea, you're takin' her to family dinner?" Trey looked shocked, like he had been punched in the gut.

"I'm not bringin' her, but she's comin' to dinner." Sweet Pea met her gaze now, finally seeing the worry and upset written on her face. "Malachi's bringin' her."

The silence was unnatural, every pair of Serpent eyeballs was on her, every last one. She felt like a sideshow attraction, the one where she has gnarly snarled limbs or aggressive amounts of hair covering her body. No longer regarded as Jughead's jilted lover and Serpent adjacent, she had somehow become a spectacle.

"You pledge loyalty to us then bang the Ghoulie King?" Trey looked sickened, scared, but sickened.

"It's not like that." Her voice was so small, but everyone heard. "I'm not…"

"I bet not princess." Trey unfolded himself from the seat in front of her, picking up his book bag and leaving.

"See? I'm not the only one Betts." Jughead mirrored Trey's actions. Popping in his ear buds so he didn't have to hear the gossip.

The other Serpents, the ones who watched as Jughead tossed her out like yesterday's trash, they all shook their heads and followed their leader. She wanted to crawl in a hole, maybe switch to homeschool. There was a warm hand on her shoulder, she looked at Sweet Pea, a sad smile on his face.

"You know how to clear room Betty, almost as well as Jughead. You still hungry, or you wanna get outta here?" He asked her, searching her face for signs of a breakdown.

"I would very much like to leave Pea." Blinking back tears, she didn't expect the backlash to be so harsh.

"Come on, I know a place. Better than this dump!" He stood up up, taking her tray in his hand, marched over to a trash can and turned it over. Betty smiled a little, a sad soggy smile. "Let's blow this joint Betty." Wrapping an arm around her, he lead her out to his bike.

…~*~...

It was chilled on the back of Sweet Pea's bike; they were nearing the end of October. Betty tucked her head low on his leather clad back in Hope's it would keep the wind from numbing her face. Her eyes hadn't been open the entire ride, so she had no idea where she had been taken, but she was grateful when the bike finally stopped. Lifting her head from Sweet Pea's back, she let his torso loose as well, opening one eye and then the other. It was familiar, the metal awning covering the picnic tables and trash cans. A smile slid over her lips, she hugged Sweet Pea from behind him on the bike.

"Hey there Betty, I don't want Malachi beating my ask cuz you couldn't keep your hands off me. I mean, how could you resist, but still. The guy owns like six pair of knuckle dusters and the knives?" He had placed a hand over hers on his chest.

"Thank you Sweet Pea, for bringing me here." Slipping from the bike, she took hold of the straps of her backpack, nervously rocking back and forth on the ball's of her feet.

"Somethin' tells me this isn't the first time you've been here. Malachi brought you?" She smiled at him, nodding her head in agreement. "That's weird, not in a bad way! Just different for him."

"So, that was fun. Wouldn't be a Friday if _all_ of the Serpents didn't hate me. It's funny, I did that ridiculous dance to show Jug I accepted who was, that I could be part of it all with him." Stuffing her hands into her back pockets, she kept her eyes on the cracked concrete beneath their feet.

"I've known Jughead my whole life, he's always been half clocked up know? He wants to be the one making all the choices, no one can have a thought without him getting belligerent. I wouldn't worry about him or the other guys when you and I _both_ have family dinner tomorrow." Waving at the small woman inside the little building, she smiled brightly at him. Opening the window immediately, she looked at the boy lovingly.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" She asked, hands on her hips.

"Yeah. Riverdale is overrated Aunty. You have any of that pick ready?" He wagged his eyebrows at her, a sly smile on his face. Typical Sweet Pea.

"I know what you want, give me a minute." She closed the window and walked away. Sweet Pea took Betty to the closest picnic table and sat down.

"How many cousins do you have?" He was serious now.

"The only ones I've met are Cheryl and Jason. It's always just been us, Mom, Dad, Polly and me. Why?" Confused, she wrapped her cardigan tight around her middle.

"Well, my Mom is one of six, and my Dad is one of four. Fil and Mal, their Dad is my Mom's older brother. That's just two generations. Grams, she's one of ten. Tramps, one of twelve. We have to eat at different houses to keep everyone out of the elements." Rubbing his hands together, he looked at her, really honesty looked at her.

"What? Is something wrong with me?" She began touching her face, her hair, looking down at her clothes.

"Nah _Betts,_ you're perfect. I'm just trying to figure you out." Squinting now, he let his eyes take over her face. She was nervous.

"God, this is unnerving." She wished he'd stop. He didn't need to look her over so thoroughly.

"See, Grams is old school. She'll look over like that for hours. Trying to find the fault, find the reason you're not good enough for her precioso. Her grandchildren are everything to her. We make her life a little better." He moved closer to her, legs spread wide around the bench seat. "She's gonna ask all these crazy questions. Like, when are you gonna get married. When can she expect great grandchildren, how do you feel about staying home with your children in their formative years."

"You're joking right?" Her heart had started to speed up around the mention of marriage.

"Not kidding at all. We are loud and crazy and theres at least one hundred of us at any given moment. The Aunties and Grams, they ask obscure questions and expect honest answers. You have to be tough. If they think you aren't worthy of Malachi, they _will_ tell you. Are you up for all of this?" He stood. Waiting for her to answer.

"I think I am. I can do it." She said. He smiled and walked back to the window to get their food.

…~*~...

Non stop vibrating all throughout group, and the meeting, and even through the u.a. for his probation officer. Malachi felt like it was the old days; two, sometimes even three phones at a time going off in his pockets for those sickly straws of death. It was three hours of his pocket pulsing and going crazy, he was on edge and full of frustration by the time they were. let loose. Being the first one out of the door, he missed the coffee and donuts and the looks of concern from FP and his sponsor. Pulling the phone, still vibrating, from his pocket, he swore at how many missed calls and messages he had.

He checked texts first, several from Sweet Pea, Batso, Ratso, a couple of guys at Riverdale and Archie. The tightening in chest became anger with each sentence he read. At the end of the video Archie had sent, he was a flaming ball of rage, ready rip through the Serpent youth with his bare hands. Trying to breathe evenly was quite the feat, even while he listened to the handful of voicemails left from various sources. Whipping around at the feel of a hand on his back, white hot hatred filled his eyes.

"Woah, hang on, what happened?" FP held his hands up, not wanting a fiery tussle, Malachi showed him the video first, then the numerous voicemails of what Trey had said to Betty, of what Jughead had said as well. FP shook his head, feeling a bit embarrassed by his crew's behavior.

"This is why the dance has to go, misogynist dicks and their ideas about the girls that have no choice if they want to show allegiance to your club. You know Betty isn't a tramp, she isn't even close to it." He was shaking now, wishing like hell he could punch through something.

"I'll call church, as soon as I get back. I can't change laws overnight Mal, it doesn't work like that. Lets you get you home and we can deal with our guys. For what it's worth, I'm sorry." FP was sincerely apologetic, he needed damage control quickly because he was certain Alice would be shoving a stiletto up everyone's ass by the time he got back.

Their ride home was anything but silent. There were multiple phone calls on both their ends. Alice had called both of them for good measure. Making it clear she would be kicking as and taking names until they returned to the Southside.

Sweet Pea let Malachi and FP know that he had fed and returned Betty safely home, and he was back at the Whyte Wrym with Archie watching Alice verbally assault throngs of teenage boys. Malachi was more concerned about why Betty hadn't said anything to him, so he had FP drop him at his car at Pop's. He wasn't even thinking properly, he called Batso on the way to Betty's place, reassuring him things were being taken care of. He would call everyone as soo. As he made sure Betty wasn't a blubbering mess in her pink duvet.

When he got to her house, there was no signs of anyone being home, but Malachi knew better. He parked in the driveway, and walked around to the side where Betty's window was. Flinging himself from the car door, he slammed it a little too hard but couldn't care less. There was a ladder he had placed weeks previous, he pulled it from its hiding place, putting it directly in front of her window so he scale her proverbial tower and rescue her from her evil ex boyfriends reign of accusations.

Sliding the window up without falling backward was a skill only a criminal such as himself could pull off seamlessly. Hoisting himself over the sill and onto het window seat, Malachi searched from one end to the other. She was curled up in her bed, bright red nose and waterlogged lashes greeted him as he stepped fully into the room.

"Ah, babe. Why didn't you call me?" He scooped her up into his arms, setting her on his lap as he sat down on the mattress.

"You had NA and your U.A., I didn't want to bother. Sweet Pea fed me Huerta's though. He tried to make it better. I just hate that people think such horrible things about us, about you." She swiped at her face with a tissue from the box next to them.

"You should have called. I wanted to hear it from you. Besides, people have said a lot worse about me. It don't mean shit." His large thumbs swiped at the fresh tears running down to her chin. Her eyes were puffy, lips a little chapped from her worrying. The pad of his thumb smoothed over her mouth, her eyes closed as she kissed his thumb.

"I wanted to know what to expect at dinner tomorrow, I tried to ask Sweet Pea, then Trey started saying things." She felt responsible for all of it, the Serpents hating her, Jughead, even the Ghoulie's arrests. She was just waiting for the trap to snap and catch her by the ankle, breaking through her bone and flooding the earth with her traitorous blood.

"It's not your fault Betty, no matter how much you try act like it is, it's just not. I had a stigma attached to my name for as long as I've been a Ghoulie. Damn it baby girl, you just had to catch my eye didn't you? With your sweetness, all for me." He kissed her forehead, noticing how she melted into him.

"You caught my eye too Chi, and you're good to me." She looked like she might cry, so brutally innocent it scared the hell out of him.

"I'll always be good to you, I can't help it, you bring it outta me. Problem is, you're with the Ghoulie King beautiful. There's trouble that follows. You have to be bigger than the trash that gets in your way, you have to take a page from Alice's book." He wanted this to work, desperation did terrible things to a man. Made him beg and plead, lay his soul bare for his woman to see.

"I'm trying, I swear I am. Sweet Pea told me some things to expect tomorrow. This was my last little girl moment." She tried to suck back the tears as best she could.

"A little advice from a people pleaser? Be strong for yourself, want all this for you, not for me. I want you either way, no matter what. You could tell me to go straight to hell, I'd crawl there on my hands and knees and I'd still want you." She sat up now, feeling a little more comfortable in her own skin.

"Malachi? I think I'm…" Biting her lip, green eyes wide searching his, she felt like she might burst. Had his hands on either side of her face, rubbing calloused palms over her skin, she loved it.

"Tell me what you're thinkin'." His voice was low, irises deep chocolate brown, melting her down to a pool of words and thoughts she was desperate to reveal.

"I think I'm falling for you too." She pulled from him, so she could sit up on the bed, to see him better. He just looked at her at first, a little shocked and trying to find words to say.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"How did I know what?" Confused, her brows furrowed, she scooted closer to him, a delicate finger pushing a curl from over his eye.

"That was exactly what I've been wanting to hear." His smile was so bright, it could rival the sun. It melted away any and all doubt, shrouded her in warmth and reassurance that she was making the right choice.


	8. Smother Me

**Smother Me**

 _A/N: Just a heads up, I have written awful terrible lemons in other fics, that will not happen here. I will leave all that up to your imagination. I give the prelude to the deed. Let them have their moments, let them love each other._

 _*Aslo, the title comes the song,_ _ **Smother me by The Used.**_

 _I had a little inspiration from the following songs as well:_ _ **So Terrified of Your Own Mind by Yellow Days**_

 _And_

 _ **For Real by Winston Surfshirt.**_

 _Thank you for giving Malachi a chance to be a good dude, sorta. Enjoy! ~S.C._

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale Universe.**

… **~*~...**

Betty thought they would be going to Malachi's house, she half expected to pull into the long driveway, park in the huge garage and she'd finally see his house. This was not the case at four in the afternoon. They pulled up in front of a large house, farther South than even Malachi's house. Her eyes popped open at the amount of acreage this house sat on, the bulk of it being in the back.

"This is Gram's house, used to be a doctor's office. I bought her the other five lots around it and knocked the fences down. Archie's been helpin' me out with the clean up." She smiled at him, how he seemed to love his Grandma so very much. She had heard that he looking after her, making sure she was always taken of, the way he always care of Betty. Then the heat rose in her chest, swirling over her heart again, fire plumes lapping their way through her entire body. What was it Malachi had said? What a lovely way to burn, indeed.

"How did you pay for all of this?" He smiled that way he does when he knows he's been bad, head tilted back, all teeth and tongue smoothing over full lips, sending jolts of electricity into her to fuel the flames in her soul.

"Sellin' Jingle Jangle has its perks beautiful. I could setchu up real fat North a Riverdale. Still have money for retirement and the here after." He was watching her reaction, most girls would cream their panties, fall all over him, feigning love and adoration. Not Betty. She cleared her throat, hugging her jacket closer to her body.

"I don't want you to. I don't need anything like that. Besides, I'm planning on college." Her big green doe eyes never left his. He sat up straight, all the color draining from his face. She watched his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed in discomfort.

"College huh?" Suddenly his hands in his lap were far more interesting than gauging her reactions, or watching her slender fingers twist over the leather cuffs of her sleeves.

"Yeah, in state, journalism. I'll take over The Register. It'd be Serpent run, Southside run business in the Northside. I wasn't planning on going too far though. Why I feel like you don't like this idea?" Lifting her leg up on the carseat, she scooted closer to him.

"It's not that I don't like it, or even that I don't support it. I've never been with anyone like you before. I guess I should have known you're smart, that you're going places not affiliated with orange jumpsuits." He couldn't help the feeling of tightness growing in his chest. It was the feeling loss, he knew it well. Just another person he was destined to be without.

"You're destined for more than that too. I'm not leaving yet. That's in a year or so, we have time to figure things out." She slid her fingers through his, pulling his hand into her lap. "If you want."

"Yeah, of course I want to. I don't want you thinkin' you have to be tethered to me Betty. I'll never hold you back beautiful." Lifting both of their hands, still clasped together, his bent index finger skimmed over her cheek bone.

"Believe me, you don't hold me back." Leaning forward, taking her hand from his, she took hold of his face. "I don't think of it as being tethered either. I like you Malachi."

"You like me beautiful?" He teased, kissing her lightly.

"You know I do." Face flaming, she bit her lip.

"Say it again." His arm snaked around her back, palm flat on her back under her jacket.

"I like you Malachi, a lot." Her lips were close to his, their eyes locked on one another.

"That's my girl." It was a whisper, and his lips were on hers, sweet and soft. It made her heart ache for him. It was more than like, and it.

... _ **Bang bang bang**_ …

Betty's eyes flew open, scrambling back from Malachi's face, her hand flying to her mouth. Searching every window for signs of what made the loud banging noise on the car, she found it. Laughing loudly, bent at the waist to see into the window next to Betty.

"I scared to shit outta you Betts. Ha! You guys are fuckin' crazy makin' out in front of Grams' like that. Anyone could see." Sweet Pea was laughing, high fiving another leather clad boy.

"Real mature Sweet Pea, Fangs." Malachi sat up straighter, tugging on the open ends of his shirt. Betty was aflame with embarrassment. Placing his finger back on her cheek, Malachi smiled at her. "This is the least concerning part of this dinner. You ready for this beautiful?"

Shaking her head "yes", she reached for her purse. Waiting for him to get out before pulling her door handle to get out. Fangs was at her door before she could put a foot on the ground, a hand held out to her.

"How chivalrous of you Fangs, I never would have guessed it." He smiled brightly at her, she took his hand in hers, stepping out of the car completely.

"I try sometimes. Good to see you outside of school Betty." Fangs hugged her to his side, she did the same, encircling him with both of her arms.

"Geez, don't hog her Fangs." Sweet Pea grabbed at Betty's arms, pulling her from his friend's embrace, fully encircling her in his own. "Sorry I scared you, I didn't think you'd freak so bad."

"It's alright. I'm glad you're both here though, I know at least a few people." She said, unclasping her hands from behind Sweet Pea's back.

"Aw, come on Betty, we aren't that bad. Just loud and excessively good looking. Shouldn't be too much for you to handle. We're the best looking outta the bunch." With a wink and a sly smile so similar to Malachi's Betty almost choked, Sweet Pea patted Betty on the back.

"Alright alright, enough flirting with my girlfriend Cuz." Malachi put a possessive arm around Betty's shoulders.

"Oh damn, made it official have we?" Sweet Pea rubbed his palms together, looking far too pleased with the news.

"Yeah, I figured I better stake a claim before you kids start tryin' to steal her from me." Pulling her closer to him, he kissed her cheek, running the side of his nose over her temple. She shivered a little at the feel of his skin on hers.

"You think I want my face bloodied? No thanks Mal." Fangs said, starting to make his way up the stone walk. "You're cute and all B, but so not worth gettin' castrated for."

"He has a point, and I'm starvin'. Shall we?" Motioning for the front door, Sweet Pea walked backward behind Fangs. Catching Malachi's half smile.

"Why does everyone think you'll harm their balls for being near me?" She turned to look at him, still under his arm.

"Because, I will. I don't like it when they look at you, I know what they're thinkin', what they want from you. It's what I think, what I want. You're mine beautiful, and they covet you, I can see it when I pick you up from school. They can't have you, and I don't share baby girl." Her head fell back on his arm, she was trying to keep her balance, despite his possessive tendency, she felt her knees get weak with his admission.

"No one is sharing me, I don't play those games. You should already know that." One eyebrow rose on her face, she was being stern with him. Something he wasn't used to.

"I _do_ know that, but other guys don't. If I thought Fangs and Sweets were like other guys, they woulda been laid out a long time ago." He kissed her nose, and she smiled.

"Aww, my big bad Ghoulie King." She smiled at him.

"Keep it up, you won't be makin' it to dinner beautiful." His voice was low, his arm tightened around her.

"As intriguing as that sounds, I'm also starving, and I made it all the way here. Might as well get to meet the family." Her smile was sweet.

"Okay beautiful, if you say so, I'll remember you said that."

…~*~...

If you've walked into the wrong party at a VFW, the way everyone inside would stop mid activity and stare, that's exactly what Betty felt as she stepped into the giant living room/dining room area. Malachi had a firm grasp on her hand, holding her tight in case she tried to make a run for it, Lord knows she looked like she wanted to. Every head in the combined rooms whipped around to see who exactly had entered, so obviously late.

"I kind of like to make an entrance, fashionably late babe." He whispered into her ear, she looked up at him, no clue as to what to say to him.

"Okay." Was all she could muster.

"Don't worry about all them _Betts_ , just be yourself, Grams will approve." His breath was warm over the shell of her ear, his arms encircled her middle like he was holding onto her for dear life. He'd never tell her that he was scared to death she'd bolt from the house and his life.

"What do we do first? Everyone is looking Malachi." The smile on face made her laugh a little. His top teeth pushed into his full bottom lip, the corners of his mouth tugged up im his signature smirk.

"We make the rounds, meet all the Aunties and Uncles, cousins, then we meet my Mom, and then Grandma. You already know Fil, no use in sayin' anything to him, unless you want to. Oh, and his girl, Dre." He winked at her, tugging her with him as went to first table of people.

…*...*...

There were no less than eight tables of at least ten, not counting the kids. By the time they made it to the table where Fangs, Sweet Pea and Fil sat, Betty felt like she'd ran six miles all uphill. He took her aside before introducing her, taking her face in his hands, eyes washing over her features.

"Just be you beautiful, they'll see what I see. I know it feels like an audition, I guess it kind of is, but you're good. So fuckin' perfect beautiful." She smiled at him, pushing a curl from his face. Lacing his fingers with hers, he nodded toward the table, she followed him wordlessly.

The table was occupied by six people, two seats were left empty, obviously for Malachi and Betty. With a sweet smile on her face, Betty took a deep breath and waited for introductions.

"Mom, Grams, this is Betty. Betty my Mom Benny, and my Abuela Alma." Now he was feeling the nerves, his Mom and Grams had identical sceptical looks on their faces. His Mom more so than than his Grandma, but it was still unnerving. Holding a hand out to the older women, Betty smiled.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you both, I've heard so much about you." Benny took Betty's hand first, looking from Malachi to Betty and then to Alma.

"Good to meet you as well Betty." Benny settle back into her seat. Malachi noticed her nudging Fil, a look floating between the two, he recognized it right away. Fil's girlfriend Andrea gave him a sympathetic smile, and rested her chin on her hand.

"Mrs. Cardenas, such a pleasure. My Mom speaks so highly of you." Alma smiled genuinely at her, taking her hand in between her two.

"Oh my, Alice's daughter? Malachi has good taste I see." She winked at her grandson, instantly easing his panicked heart. His Mom's reaction wasn't what he was expecting, quite the opposite in fact, but he would take it.

"Yes, Alice is my Mother. Oh, I almost forgot, how rude of me." Betty opened her purse, pulling a tin wrapped in a sheer bow from inside of it, handing it to the older woman with a smile. "My Mom may have mentioned these were your favorite."

"My favorite, really?" Alma was stumped, she had heard some things floating around town about her Grandson and his newest beau, nothing she'd ever repeat, but things she had questioned. Things she had heard about another young girl long ago, a girl that still came to see her more than her own children ever had.

"Mom may have mentioned it passing, I made them fresh this afternoon before Chi picked me up. I hope I made them right." Betty's smile fell a little, a little doubt clouding her green eyes.

"I'm sure they're perfect, if you followed Alice's recipe, you nailed them. It's not even Christmas yet, what a treat. Thank you Elizabeth." She said, patting the tin lovingly. "And you, Rico Suave, button that damned shirt."

"Oh come on Abuela, it's just a little skin, no one else minds." He winked at his Grandma, running the backs of his knuckles over her cheek. She swatted at him.

"Don't you butter me up, button at least five buttons, or no menudo for you. You mark my words Mal." Betty turned and began to button his shirt for him, needing a distraction from the ominous glare coming from Benny. Sweet Pea was giving her little winks here and there and it made the situation all the more nerve wracking.

"Thank you Elizabeth, at least someone listens to me. Go, get a plate, come eat with us." She waved the couple off, scolding Sweet Pea for his kissing face he made at them when they headed toward the spread on the kitchen counter.

"I think your Mom wants me dead." Betty said when they were out of earshot.

"It's not you beautiful, she just don't like me. If it makes you feel any better, she doesn't like Andrea any better. It probably doesn't help that you and I are the talk of the town." He stepped in front of her just before she could grab for a plate.

"I don't want to talk about that right now." She said, nervously playing with her purse strap.

"Why not, they are?" He waved a hand back at the crowd, her eyes opening wide in horror.

"Seriously?" Clutching her purse tighter, she wanted to run from the room.

"They're talking. Think of them like old women at coffee, the gossip line, The Talk of Riverdale. It's not a big deal, if you brush them off like the words mean nothing, because they literally mean nothing." His proximity to her suddenly forget that they were being dissected by roughly eighty people.

"Just be myself, act like the gossip is nothing. Easier said than done Chi." Still holding on tight to her purse, her knuckles were white and the tips of her fingers had begun to tingle.

"Jeez Mal, your Mom is vicious. I'd hate to be either of you. Although, she doesn't like me much either. Anyway, like I said, I'm starving. Can we eat?" Sweet Pea had his timing right, he knew it, Betty was in the beginning of a small panic attack, he'd saved het yet again.

"Thanks Pea." She smiled at him, reaching around Malachi for a plate.

"Yeah, thanks." Malachi, moved for her to get food, he and Sweet Pea stood behind her.

"It's no problem. I hope Aunty doesn't start in on why my Mom isn't here, I'm not really in the mood." Sweet Pea started mounding chicken, rice, and beans on his plate.

"Let's just hope she doesn't start up with any of us. Better yet, let's hope her fear of Grams outweighs her need to humiliate us. Wonder what it's like to be the golden child?" The two turned to look at Fil, in all of his muscled Serpent glory. Andrea was quiet beside him, picking at her food.

"I don't care anymore, he's been a real dick lately. Apparently, someone has been seen at Pop's with a certain Serpent leader. I tried to explain the meetings, but your Mom ambushed me." Sweet pea had two plates now, typical of his bottomless pit stomach, Betty smiled to herself.

"Who's afraid of the Serpent Bitch?" Malachi picked up plasticware and napkins for him and Betty, handing her the items before picking her plate up in his free hand.

"Mmm. Can't say I miss these little get togethers on the other three weeks of the month. It's really a humbling experience when your Mom actually shows up." Sweet Pea was waiting for them to finish getting their food, he wasn't looking forward to the sit down part of this particular event.

"She can't possibly be that bad." Betty finally spoke up, snagging three cans of soda from the ice bucket.

"Oookay." Sweet Pea said, eyebrows flying high in his forehead.

"You'll see beautiful, she's a goddamned nightmare. How I came from that woman is really a mystery." Malachi nudged Betty with an elbow, nodding with his head toward the table. She followed silently again, behind the cousins to what felt like certain death.

"Am I going to regret this?" Betty asked.

"I hope not. Grams approves." Malachi wagged a brow at her.

"Aunty Benny doesn't decide who makes it in, Abuela does. With your biscochitos in that tin, you should be the queen by seven tonight." Sweet Pea teased her.

"Funny Sweets." Betty was positive she was going to have a heart attack, it wouldn't surprise her if she died from Benny's hate filled looks alone.

"You made extra of those by the way right?" Malachi was curious when he'd arrived at her house earlier, he could smell them on the front step.

"I did, sent some over to Sweets place and then over to yours. Archie was going over to the House of the Dead anyway." They sat down, ignoring the way Benny rolled her eyes.

Malachi placed a plate in front of Betty, she unravelled napkins and plasticware, placing some on the side of Malachi's plate. Alma watched thoughtfully at how they helped each other. A small smile spread over the old woman's face when Betty placed a soda can in front of Sweet Pea, Malachi, then herself.

"Grace?" Sweet Pea asked the couple.

"Yes, Malachi, would you please?" Alma held her hands out on either side of her, waiting for Malachi and Benny to accept them. Malachi took his Grandma's hand in his own, squeezing it lightly.

"Of course Abuela." He said, taking hold of Betty's hand, then hung his head over his plate.

…*...*...

They ate semi silently for the first ten or so minutes, until Benny cleared her throat, getting the attention of the entire table. Putting her utensils down on her plate, she took a long calculated look at Betty while sipping on whatever was in her cup. The boys kept eating, shoveling mouthfuls of every kind of meat and casserole in their mouths, knowing full well what was coming. The two young girls simply copied the actions of the older woman, glancing at each other, then back at her. The only one unphased by the clearing of the throat was Alma, she ate, and sipped and watched and smiled.

"Tell me Betty, how old are you exactly." Benny folded her hands in her lap, waiting for an answer, taking note of Malachi's sideways glance at her. He'd let her play her game, ensnare the girl and figure out exactly why she was here, why Malachi would dare bring her to meet the family at all.

"I'm seventeen, I turn eighteen in a month." She never waivered, answered genuinely and honestly, Alama smiled to herself. Malachi rubbed a palm over her thigh under the table.

"You are that Malachi is much older than you? He's already twenty two." Benny took a small bite of food, chewing delicately, swallowing, then going in for another feather ruffle. "You're mother is brave, letting her _little girl_ date a full grown man of twenty two."

"Well, my Mom likes Malchi. She knows he's a good guy, and trusts me." Betty took a drink from her can, waiting for the next intense question.

"What are your plans after you graduate?" This wasn't a way to break Betty down, Malachi seen it now. His Mother smiled evilly when Betty hung her head over the table, side glancing him questioningly. He raised a brow that only she could see.

"I plan on going to college, in state of course. I'm working on getting my snake bite. Isn't that right Sweet Pea, Fangs?" The pair of heads whipped around so quickly, Betty thought they might spin right off the boy's necks.

"Yeah, got the dance under wraps, just need the deed and the fight. Then you're set Betts." Fangs seemed enthusiastic, winking at the girl to show her he was on her side.

"Not too many chicks wanna row with the big dogs, but Betty here, she's a beast. We have some ideas, but she's on her way to becoming a full fledged Serpent." Sweet Pea stuffed a tortilla doused in chili and cheese, rice and beans into mouth, looking anywhere but at his Aunt and Grandmother.

"I haven't heard anything of the sort, haven't even seen you at the Wyrm since the night of the dance Princess." Fil was on her like white on rice, he leaned across the table, large beefy fingers clasped together.

"FP stays at my house a lot, he and my Mom are getting closer. Just because you haven't been at my place doesn't mean it's not happening. Jughead doesn't want me patched or inked, he pretty much lives at the Wyrm Fil, you know that." Betty had this one half way in the bag, Fil was looking for holes, watching her every move now.

"But a Serpent, not a Ghoulie? How is that going to work?" Benny was on it again.

"There's a truce between both clubs Ma, no beef no riots." Malachi slipped an arm over Betty's shoulders. "I don't think the Serpents would mind Betty wearing a 'Property' patch regardless of affiliation. Right Fil, Dre?" Everyone at the table looked at the couple, Fil's eyes went wide.

"FP doesn't mind, Mal doesn't mind either. It's just some of the crews do, they make comments, it doesn't bother me." Andrea rolled up her sleeve to reveal a skull tattoo. Ribbons flowing over it with the word "Ghoulie" in script on it. Then she rolled the other sleeve up, a banner similar to the first that read: "Property of Filthy Fil".

"I had no idea you were a Ghoulie Andrea." Benny seemed almost disgusted. The same way she was Malachi, like he was a traitor, they were both traitors.

"How can you be so hypocritical Benita? You think my Tony found you repulsive when you patched over? Stop giving these kids such a hard time." Everyone was looking at Benny now, Malachi tried not to show his anger, and Fil tried not to lash out at her.

"You were a Ghoulie Ma?" Malachi asked what everyone wanted to know. Benny's dark brown eyes squinted with hatred at her youngest son.

"I _was._ Senior turned a blind eye, let me patch over to be with your Dad. Then you go and ruin your chances of being a Serpent like Filemon, disgraceful." Benny spat hate laced words at her youngest son.

"Fil told FP not to patch me in, I did my task, got the shit beat out of me, took care of Hot Dog. Fil didn't want me in, he was the deciding vote, or were you not privy oh Queen Benita Cardenas?" Malachi had thrown his napkin over his plate, a few people stood up from the room, their studded leathers quite obvious now that Betty wasn't being scrutinized by them.

"I, no I didn't know. Fil made it sound like you…" She let the sentence hang in the air, she didn't know what to say.

"Isn't that convenient, huh _Filemon_? Precious baby Filemon, the be all end all of Benny's love and admiration. I knew you were a self centered asshole, but this on a whole new level." Malachi was tense, Betty was rubbing circles over his chest, whispering into his ear.

"This ain't about me Mal, it's about your newest piece comin' to dinner. Never brought a bitch to dinner before." Fil was calm, settled even, as he slandered his brother.

" **Hey**!" Several voices yelled at once. Betty was surprised at who had said it. Alma, Sweet Pea, Fangs and Andrea has all made the same distressed face, all looking toward Fil as they spoke.

"You Watch your mouth in my home Fil, Benny, no disrespect here either." Alma stood now, still tough as nails in her seventies.

"You think you're better cuz you laid ink on one of mine? That you drag my name in the mud in front of my Lady? You're a pile of shit Filemon." Malachi began cleaning up the plates, stacking them and the soda cans with napkins and plastic utensils.

"I'm not better cuz I snagged your Ghoulie Sergent, bruh. I'm better cuz I rank high enough as a Serpent to vote you out. You ain't shit and your hyna is second rate royalty at best. Callin' her Lady is bullshit Mal." Fil had stood, his hulking six foot stature set Betty completely still. She dared a look at Sweet Pea and Fangs, Andrea was holding herself still, not looking at anyone. Sweet Pea had that rigid set to his jaw that said he was ready for what might come next and Fangs simply shook his head, totally unreadable.

"You didn't snag my Sergeant Fil. Dre is an officer, a patched member. Doesn't sit in on meetings. She has a job, she gets it done. As far as _my Lady_ goes, keep out of our shit. These women don't have a place in men's fights. You should have more respect for your President's Old Lady's daughter. I'm sorry Abuela. I'll send the guys over later to clean. I'll see you tomorrow after church." Malachi kissed the woman on the forehead, hugged her tight to his side. Reaching for Betty, he tugged her up out if the folding chair.

"It was so good to finally meet you. Thank you for having me Mrs. Cardenas. You have a beautiful home." Betty reached for the shorter woman, hugging her.

"That's right, run away scared little boy. Take your Serpent Sweet Butt and get the hell outta here." Fil waved his brother away. Andrea simply stared at him, mouth agape at the audacity of this man. Betty tried to keep ahold of Malachi when he turned to look at his brother. His jaw was rigid, the muscles in his arms rippled with unshed rage.

"You know as well as I do, she only danced. That's a Sweet Butt. How sweet is she exactly? She takin' your dirty Ghoulie dick for all that Jingle Jangle cash?" Folding his arms in front of his broad torso, knowing full well he had struck a match, Fil was waiting for the explosion.

"I think you need to stop talking man. You showed him that you're hard and shit Fil, let it go. Mal, we know Betts isn't a hang around, we'd never treat her like one either." Sweet Pea didn't know what else to do, if the brothers fought, it'd be all out war on the Southside. Betty was pulling the trunk like arms of her boyfriend with all her might, desperate to keep him from ruining everything.

"Chi, this is what he wants. He wants you to lose control, so he has the the upper hand, so he can go back to the Wyrm and Jughead. They'll tell FP the truce is off, it will be war. I couldn't stand by you then, Andrea couldn't stand by Fil. We'd be fighting each other. Sweet Pea, Fangs, me, against Ratso and Batso and you. I couldn't live with that. Please baby, please?" It was the first she'd ever called him that. She was able to move in front of him, press herself to him, try to reason with him.

"Come on man, let's get some air Mal. Grandma, I love you. Call you later." Sweet Pea moved quickly around the table, stepping in between the brothers and Betty. Fangs stood now, hugging Alma.

"Abuela, always a pleasure. Even when the children can't get along." Fangs looked directly Fil, nothing but stern steady jaw and malicious eyes. He kissed Alma on the cheek and moved around the table to stand with his best friend.

"Please baby? Let's go." Malachi finally broke his stare off with his brother, his dark volatile eyes finding hers. She was scared, shaking hands pressed firmly onto his chest. His first thought was that the buttons of his shirt were keeping him from feeling the smooth skin of his girl over his heart, so he unbuttoned the shirt, not letting his sight leave hers. She smoothed her hands over the tops of his pectorals, running slender fingers to the tips of his clavicles, she wet her lips with a small pink tongue, piquing the interest of the animal she had managed to tame.

It was silent, despite the creaks of leather and clanks of studs and chains on chairs and tables. Betty didn't dare move from the spot in front of Malachi, his stare was heated and his movements were calculated. He was waiting for someone to start swinging, generate the war they had all been waiting for since these boys were just diapered toddlers landing punches over who got what color play doh. Alma watched the boys, Malachi in particular. The way her grandson seemed to want to own the girl before him, how he was desperate to touch the blond who was keeping his anger at bay.

"We're set beautiful." Malachi said, the deep tone of his voice sending a different type of shiver through Betty's body, the pads of her fingers found the heated skin of his torso, greedily taking him in with her eyes. "Let's go."

Shielding Betty from the parted sea of Ghoulie and Serpent, Malachi regarded them both, as he escorted her from the house. Sweet Pea and Fangs followed suit, saying their byes and love yous as they went.

"Well, that was fun. Never a dull moment with the Cardenas Family. Think we could pitch a reality tv idea and get a show?" Fangs said as soon as they made it outside.

"I don't think it could possibly be better than The Real wives of Serpents and Ghoulies. Fuck, that shit was intense. I think I need to find a beer." Sweet Pea clapped his hand on Malachi's shoulder, bringing an open hand up between them.

"Thanks for havin' our backs. Means a lot Cuz." They shook hands and hugged, Malachi did the same with Fangs and the two young Serpents went to their bikes.

"Dear Lord, I feel like I'm burning up Chi, how am I so hot.

?" She pulled her arms through the sleeves of her coat, holding the leather over one arm and fanning herself.

"Come on beautiful." He didn't trust himself to speak full sentences just yet, so he lead her back to his car, shutting the door when she was seated inside.

He didn't say a single thing as he drove, he just thought. Thought about his parent, his Grams, how he hated the never ending war between him and Fil. It felt like seconds since he'd tucked Betty into his side, seconds from the time he'd slid the key into ignition and fired up the '74 Cutlass Supreme. It was only second that it took for him to park the car in his garage, tugging Betty through the rain soaked back yard and into the back door of his house. He was silent in the moments it took him to tug off Betty's shoes, while she sat in the chair he'd directed her toward.

Seeing Malachi's obvious turmoil swirling around behind his eyes, Betty thought it best to let him process. Letting him take her jacket after her shoes, she touched his face gently, running her cold digits over his cheek, moving the hair from in his eyes. He hadn't looked at her since she called him baby, but he looked at her now, after laying the leather on the next chair over. Scooting forward to the end of the seat, her legs opened to accommodate him kneeling on the floor. She pushed at his cutte, he let it slide to the floor, their eyes never leaving each others.

"Malachi?" Her whisper was almost too loud after silence that had passed between them. He stood, still watching her, completely eerily silent.

"Malachi, I think…" He shook his head no. She stopped talking and watched him pick up his cutte from the floor behind him. Laying it over the top of her jacket on the chair, he put his shoe on the edge, untying his shoelace. He repeated the action with his other shoe, then toed off his boots, tossing them off to the side with Betty's.

"Come on." He said, holding his hand out to her. Just like all the times he had before, it didn't ever feel less loving. It made her feel so much more for him. After this evening, with his Mom trying to find a way for her sons to fight, and his brother more than willing to oblige? She wanted hold him, ease his pain, let him know she would never hurt him that way. Taking his hand, he pulled her up toward him. Picking up her bag that he'd tossed out of the way before, he led her through the kitchen, down a dim lit hallway to an open door at the end. Leading her inside, flicking on a switch on the wall, tall table lamps with crystals dripping from them illuminated the large master bedroom. Betty's eyes widened, this was not what she was expecting, but the more she looked around, it all made sense.

It was a gothic dream room, something she'd imagine would have been at Cheryl's house. The bed was a California king, set in a skull covered gothic victorian type bed frame. The duvet was a black velvet damask pattern over charcoal fabric. He sat down on the bench at the end of the bed, hands grasping the edge it on either side of his legs. He just watched her, loving her honest expressions at what she was seeing.

"No one's ever been here before, in this room I mean. The whole place is this kind of crazy dark Victorian theme, but you're the only one who's seen this room, beside Bats. He helped." He was nervous, like never been kissed, butt crazy for this girl, kind of nervous.

"It's gorgeous, incredibly gorgeous. You sleep here?" Her hand slid over the bed, loving the contrasting textures of the materials. She came to a stop in front of him, her arms folded at her waist.

"I do. In that big ass bed, alone, almost every night." He motioned toward the bed, she noticed he said alone and almost every night. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I know what you're thinkin beautiful, and you're way off base. When I'm slippin' in your window, kissin' you to sleep, I usually just ride the sofa."

"Well, I like it. Totally different from my house. It's so, youm" She smiled, looking around the room again. His hands took hold of her hips, bringing her closer to him. She let her hands slide over his bare shoulders, until her hips hit his torso, and her elbows were at his ears.

"I'm glad you like it beautiful. Your new home away from home." He kissed her softly on her chin, then her lips and pulled away.

"You're sure I'm the only one?" Betty was skeptical, how could she not be, he was rock solid, built like a tank and devastatingly attractive.

"Have I lied to you baby girl? Ever?" His arms were completely around her now, his palms flat over her back, she almost had to sit on him so she didn't fall. "I'd never lie to you."

"I believe you baby." Her hands were in his hair, half holding onto him, half keeping her balance.

"God, could that sound any fuckin' better?" His brown eyes exuded such affection for her, she couldn't help the smile of adoration.

"I have something to tell you." She was so sweet, so innocent, he wanted to devour her whole.

"What beautiful? It isn't bad is it?" He was a little worried, and not sure he could take another blow today.

Shaking her head no, she bit her lip in nervousness. He brought his hands to the outsides of her thighs, pulling her legs up onto the bench. She eased onto his lap, loving the smell of him all around her.

"Tell me." He whispered in her ear. Shivering slightly, she took a deep breath, pulling back to look at him.

"I love you Malachi." Her cheeks flamed red, so worried he wouldn't return her affections. If he didn't, she didn't know if she could bare to be in this house alone with him.

His heart almost stopped, he thought he'd be the first to say it, waiting for her to catch up, like when he said he liked her. It was all so slow going, so innocent, all on her terms. He almost didn't know how to react, but he knew how he felt.

"Oh God Betty, I love you too." His hands were in her hair, thumbs rubbing over the sides of her face. She looked like she might cry.

"You do?" Her heart swelled, beating impossibly fast. His smile was everything she needed to know.

"I love you so damn much, I thought I was gonna pop. You're everything to me beautiful." Betty kissed him, sweet and soft, and totally Betty.

"I'm really the only one who's been here?" She asked, wanting to hear it again.

"Cross my heart babe. I haven't been with anyone else in a long time. Since way before the race. I got this place a year ago, no women have been here." He kissed her again, tasting her lips.

"Okay." Sliding from her perch on his lap, she walked over to the massive black and skull encrusted dresser across from the bed and took her bag. "I need to get changed if I'm going to be staying."

Elbows finding their way to the edge of the bed, he unbuttoned his jeans, slowly taking down the zipper, his tongue ran over his bottom lip. She watched the simple action, something even she did almost everyday. It was a mundane thing to do, the act of unbuttoning and unzipping a pair of jeans, but he made it look sinful. Like she'd have to go to confession and pray the rosary hundreds of times just for having witnessed it. Then he stood, thumbs inside of the waistband of the black denim.

"Let's get changed then." He was in nothing but black and grey striped satin boxers and his socks. He'd bent over to retrieve his jeans from the pile around his large feet, tossing the pile into a basket somewhere she hadn't looked yet.

"You mean in front of you?" There was no blush, no surge of heat or lust, just her being deathly afraid of her own body and what he'd think of her.

"Come on beautiful, be yourself with me. You danced for all those douchebag Serpents. You're my girl now, my _Lady_. That means more than marriage vows in my world." He took several steps towards her, keeping her eyes trained on his own, she didn't dare look down, she doesn't trust herself.

He was so tall, completely intoxicating in his state of undress. Taking hold of the bags strap, he took it from her, placing it in the dresser once more.

"I won't push you, if you really want me to leave until your dressed, I will. Just say it, anything you want." It was almost a whisper between them. The tips of his fingers trailing over the tendons in her neck gave her goosebumps and she found her hands rising to the cuff of her sleeve over her forearm.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Was all she could think to say as she tugged the material over her arm. Malachi took hold of the hem of her sweater, pulling it up over the rest of her torso, throwing it in the same direction as his jeans.

"Not so bad is it?" He asked, backing away again, taking a seat in the bench again.

"I have issues, with weight. My parents would count my calories, weigh me every week. It hasn't happened since my Dad left, but the damage was done." Betty looked away from his handsome face, fidgeting with the camisole that covered her bra.

"Fuck your Dad. I'll make sure he never sees or talks to you or Alice again. You're fuckin' perfect beautiful." His tone was lethal, it sent heat flooding through her veins, he let her see his darkness no matter how it made anyone else feel. She wanted to be like that, fierce and wild and free to feel. She took a deep breath, tilted her chin toward her sternum, locking eyes with him.

The look on Betty's face was pure fire, something dark from within her coming to light, it intrigued him. Settling back into the bed again, he waited for more, he knew there was more. He had been wondering when she would finally let her freak flag fly, he prayed that she would feel like he was the one she could show it to, and fuck if it wasn't exhilarating to watch unfold.

Taking the edge of her camisole between her fingers and palms, she pulled the creamy ivory colored material over her head, letting it drop beside her feet on the floor. Her wild green eyes searched his face, he was taking in her lace bralet. He stayed silent, and let her do what she felt was right, and she did.

Her slender fingers made quick work of her button and zipper on her skinny jeans. Shimmying them down her thighs, over her calves and finally to a pile around her feet. Slipping her socks off was next, Malachi had never been more enthralled by someone removing socks and tossing them onto the floor, but Betty made it hard for him not to like.

Standing there in her black lace, totally on display for her man, Betty fought the urge to dive under the covers. Every part of her was alive with the darkness she kept stuffed away from view. She felt his eyes all over her, she could tell he liked what he saw, proof of it under the black and steel grey stripes of his boxers, she couldn't help but stare. Taking a few steps forward, she almost lost her nerve when he sat up straight, tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

Something inside of her wanted to suck on that tongue, taste him while simultaneously feeling that smooth tanned skin. Revel in the way his strong arms encased her in the bed she had yet to even sit on. So she kept her feet moving, until she stood unbearably close, the heat from his body radiating into hers.

"Hey there beautiful." He said, his hands coming to rest over her hips again, his fingers pressing into the flesh there.

"Hi." She said, low dark and sultry.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful." She let her lips curl into a smile, not a sweet shy smile, but one that invited Malachi to trace the muscles of her abdomen, goosebumps rose over every surface of her skin.

"If I'm beautiful what does that make you? Immortal? Unreal?" She still hadn't touched him yet, she didn't know what she was waiting for.

"Aw shit, I reached demi-god status already baby girl?" He smiled devilishly at her, breaking the mood slightly, she laughed.

"Don't act like you don't know what you look like. Women probably try to taste you at the gas station." Betty couldn't help the image of random women desperately trying to lick him as he paid for cigarettes and a tank of gas, all cash of course.

"They haven't tried to taste me, I wouldn't let them. You can taste me though. I'd let you do anything to me beautiful." His hands were inching down her hips, his long fingers ghosting over the swell of her ass on either side, her eyes met his again.

"What if I just want to lay down in the bed, feel how the Ghoulie King sleeps at night?" She rested her cheek on her shoulder, looking at the bed behind him.

"You can do whatever you want, as long as I get to see some more of that fire inside you. That Betty belongs to me." He took purchase of her backside in his palms, squeezing slightly to bring the message home for her. She felt like she was burning alive from the inside out.

"There's only one Betty, Malachi." She stated simply.

"Nah, there's the Betty from the Northside, the one who does charity work and wears those hoity toity sweaters and pastel colored pants. Then there's _my_ Betty. The naughty girl who swears, and wears lace under those cutesy pie clothes, just for me. _My Betty_ likes it when I grab her ass, run my tongue over that pulse point in her throat. Make you burn only for me. That Betty that threw off her camisole and stepped out of those jeans, I want to _own_ her." He was serious, deadly so. His voice deep dark bitter chocolate, and dangerous sex appeal, she wanted him to own that Betty too.

"I'm all yours." It was barely a whisper, but it was enough for him to stand and pick her up, her legs wrapped around his waist. He tore the comforter and top sheet away, laying her on the cool satin sheet covering the mattress. It was a shock compared to the heat that had engulfed her moments ago.

"That's a sight right there, I'll remember this until I die." His smile was wide, it made her smile right along with him. Sliding in next to her, he pulled the sheet and blanket over them.

"I like these sheets." She said, rolling over to her side, tangling her legs with his.

"I like you in these sheets." His lips were urgent over hers, his strong hands roaming the side of her body. She shivered when his fingers grazed the side of her ribcage.

"Malachi?" She asked.

"Mmm?" He rolled her over onto her back, coming to rest between her parted thighs.

"When do I get my patch?" Her palms were sliding over his muscled back.

"Your patch?" He asked confused. He was too busy licking at her clavicle to put the pieces together.

"Would I get a patch or a tattoo, because I'm the Ghoulie King's Lady?" She hiked her thigh up, granting him more access to her. He thrust his hips into her now, her head falling back eyes rolling back under her lids.

"Are you asking me when you get have a Property patch?" He stopped kissing and tasting her, his eyebrows were knit together.

"Being your lady means more than marriage vows, I assumed..." Peeling her eyes from his stung her deep in her heart.

"You want _my_ patch before you even get a prospect patch from the Serpents?" He was shocked.

"I'll never get to prospect with Jughead at church. He'll vote me out every time, and Fil will too. Who knows who else he'll turn against me." She traced over the tattoo on Malachi's bicep, looking anywhere but at him.

"FP will vouch for you. If he speaks for you, your as good as in. He'll hand you a patch no questions asked. They let Alice back in, gave her a top rocker too." His hands roamed over her body. He felt quite bold, laying a palm over her breast, pushing the boundaries she had set.

"I don't care. I want everyone to know who I belong to." Her eyes met his again.

"You want to go public?" Moving his hand from her breast, he placed it on her jaw, fingers half in her hair.

"I'm your lady right?" Licking her lips nervously, she ran her fingers from his pectorals to his navel.

"You're _my_ Lady." He looked at her, really looked at her. Not finding doubt or fear in her eyes, he thought carefully about his next words. "You'll be respected, just by me sayin' your my girl. If you want to be mine, wear my patch or my ink, that's marriage. The guys will protect you, but you're mine. Heart, body and soul. Mine." Taking a chance, he kissed her sweetly.

"I'm already yours." Her hands dipped below the elastic of his boxers, creeping slowly over his backside.

"You can't go back from this baby girl, I won't let you. I'm already addicted to you and I haven't had you yet." His words fueled the flames inside her, the plumes that engulfed her heart surged through her, consuming all rational thought and comprehension. Pushing the band of his boxers further down his body, she hooked her toe onto the elastic and pushed.

"What are you waiting for baby?" She asked, smoothing her hands over his heated skin.

"Jesus Betty. I love you, so much." His fingers found the edge of her panties, hooking onto it, he tugged them down.

"I love you too." And she lost herself in him.


	9. Happy Halloween Witches

**Happy Halloween Witches**

...

 _ **A/n: Thank you to everyone who commented, who showed love and support for this bizzaro pairing. We stretch over the course of a couple of weeks. The party is on Friday October 26th (just to ease my mind, I'm not going back into 2017 for dates.). Music to set the mood;**_

 _ **The Faces Beneath the Waves and Dark Snow both by AFI**_

 _ **I hope you like it, and without any further ado…**_ **Chocolate Cake…**

 **...**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

…~*~...

Betty rolled over, fully expecting to find a beam of sunlight falling through the drapes covering her window. Instead, she was greeted by a hot rough palm skimming over her thigh, roaming the skin from her knee to her stomach. A delicious heated shiver rolled through her body, curling her toes and the corners of her lips at the same time. Grabbing for the hand on her stomach, she sighed lightly. Malachi wove his fingers with hers, pulling her over the satin back toward him. He kissed the shell of her ear, then over her neck and over her shoulder blade.

"You feel so good." Betty wanted to soak in his warmth, his scent, the rough pads of his fingers over every

inch of her flesh.

"Mmm, I think this is my favorite morning. Of all the mornings in my life, this is the best." His calf rubbed over hers, his long warm toes smoothed over her shin.

"That's quite a few mornings." She still hadn't opened her eyes, totally submersed in the way he felt holding her from behind.

"It is a lot of mornings, cold, lonely mornings. Mornings spent hungover, beaten and bruised. This is the best morning." Holding her a little tighter, he laughed when her tummy rumbled.

"I guess I'm hungry now. Are you hungry?" She asked, rubbing her fingers over her eyes, she still hadn't opened them yet.

"Oh I'm hungry alright." His hand roamed upward, skimming the lace bralet before his fingers pulled her face toward his. Opening her eyes, she took him in, wild curls about his head, stubble growing on his chin, a smile as bright as the sun plastered on his face. He kissed her forehead, then pulled from her, flipping the comforter from his body.

"You're perfect baby." She stretched over the smooth satin. A foot poked out from under the blanket, her purple painted toes stretched to a point.

"That's my line beautiful." He winked at her, grabbing her big toe and wiggling it before walking to his closet and opening it.

"So what does a Ghoulie do for breakfast? Do they have little Ghoulie henchmen that bring them breakfast foods on platters or something?" She was on her other side, leaning up on her hand, watching him. Memorizing his every move.

"No, I don't have henchmen. I can cook, I'm not a total heathen." Taking a few items from the closet, he brought them over to the bed, laying them on the foot.

"So says the guy that runs his business out of The House of the Dead." Sitting up in the bed, her eyes focused on the clothes he had laid out. His everyday normal button down shirt and black pants.

"Keep it up little girl." He pointed a long finger at her, his eyebrows raised in a scolding manner.

"Uh oh, did I strike a chord?" She let her feet dangle from the mattress, biting her bottom lip to keep from giggling.

"I think you better get in the shower before I have my breakfast in bed. Bathroom's over there, by the reading area. There's towels and everything in there." He took his clothes from the bed, and his socks and underwear from the dresser and retreated from the room. Leaving her to wonder where he was going.

Restraint was a wonderful thing when you went a year with no female companionship. He'd been doing phenomenal until Betty came into his life. Then he was itching for her to touch him, give him just enough to fuel his fantasies for the night. He would never ask her for more than what she was willing to give. She gave him quite a lot without actually giving into him.

Last night shocked the hell out of him, he never thought that she would take control the way she did, it made him crave her more. Not daring to be in the same room as her taking a shower, he turned the coffee on in the kitchen and went to the other shower as far from her as possible. Shaking his head, he turned on the shower, letting the water heat up before stepping inside. He wondered what she was thinking. If she was remembering their night together with the same fondness that he was. As sissy as it sounded, he would probably never forget it as long as he lived. No one could hold a flame to Elizabeth Cooper, not in a million years, he'd put money on it.

In his en suite shower, steam filled the bathroom. Betty was almost reluctant to wash his scent from her skin, she had been sniffing her shoulder while the water ran over the middle of her back. He had held her so close to his body, their sweat mingling, while they tangled themselves in each other. It was the single most intoxicating scent she'd ever encountered. Deciding it was best to just get it over with, she let the water sluice through her hair and down her body to the subway tiled shower bottom. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined she'd seduce the Ghoulie King, stripping him bare and having her way with him. This choice was one she'd never regret in all her days, she chose right. Her cheeks were sore from smiling so much, she tried to stop, but the memories of him all over her body brought new reasons to smile. By the time she shut the water off, she had re-lived every moment in her mind at least a dozen times, falling in love with Malachi over and over again.

She put her hair up in a fluffy black towel, and after having wrapped another towel around her body, she heard him knock on the door. He was so exquisite leaning on the door jam, his hair was still wet, curls glossy black all over his head. His shirt was open, black and white striped, with one hand stuffed in his jeans pocket, the other holding a steaming black mug of coffee.

"Good thing I used the other shower, you'd never eat again beautiful." He handed her the mug, running the backs of his knuckles over her cheek. She smiled again, a fierce blush running from under the towel to her face.

"So silly, you making me blush after how I acted last night." Her green eyes met his.

"I hope I can make you blush for the rest of our lives beautiful. When we're both grey and wrinkled, I promise, I'll still be making you blush." He kissed her forehead again.

"You'll still want me when I'm old?" She was intrigued by the idea, that he'd even say such a thing.

"Well, yeah. If my Gramps was still around, he'd be wooin' my Grams everyday. Makin' her feel like the very first day they met. She was never the same after he passed. They were like one person, you know? Like those people who finish each other's sentences, and like give each other the things from their salads that they don't like but the other one does? I always wanted that." He backed her into the bathroom, opening the linen closet. Pulling out a lotion bottle, he set it on the sink for her. She recognized the bottle, it was the same type she always used. Her eyes grew wide, mid drink, then she swallowed.

"You want to share salads at dinner?" She took another drink, she always liked coffee with him, he would slip shooters of tequila in it when her Mom was home. He didn't skip it this morning either.

"Not exactly, I want that unspoken bond, where you know the person inside and out, down to taking croutons and onions off their lettuce and giving them your tomato and olives. Doesn't have to be salad, could be sandwiches too." He crossed his arms, leaning on the porcelain wash basin. His posture screamed sex, and she had to take a step back, distracting herself with her bag next to the door.

"Does coffee count?" She asked, putting the bag on the toilet lid, and rifling through it with one hand.

"Coffee definitely counts." He was watching her again, little beads of moisture running down her back, absorbing into the towel.

"Good, I think we can do better than salad. I'm starving by the way." She handed him the mug, took a brush from her bag, then placed it on the counter next to the lotion bottle.

"I gotchu covered beautiful. I wanted to bring you coffee and get your lotion. You smell so good when you use it. Meet me in the kitchen." He kissed her, and left the bathroom.

Shaking her head, she reached for the bottle, it was brand new, but he'd removed all the seals. The thought of him going into the store to purchase this bottle had her smiling all over again.

…*...*...

"I'm going to burst. This was amazing." Betty wiped her mouth with her napkin. They sat at the breakfast nook in the kitchen. He'd made her the most incredible omlet she'd ever had the pleasure of tasting. He simply smiled at her and drained his mug of spiked coffee. She was on her second cup, and had finished her second helping of omlet.

"I'm glad you approve. The hollandaise was from a packet, but still, edible." He took her plate, making a move for the sink.

"No, I've got dishes. You cooked for me, gave me my favorite coffee, it's the least I can do." She stood, taking the plates from his hand, and gathering the empty serving dish as well.

"I'll help. You wash I'll dry." He was already by her side with a fresh dish towel.

"We're getting good at this, washing the dishes together. I wonder what it's going to be like when I graduate." She wondered aloud, he looked at her. The sponge was soapy and she was scrubbing away, none the wiser to the fantasies swirling around his head.

"Why when you graduate?" He was curious, she handed him a hot dish.

"Because, I'll be eighteen, and free to do what I want. I don't have to beg my Mom to let me come over and stay with you." Handing him another dish, she glanced at him, a little smile on her face.

"Technically, I begged your Mom to let you stay over. If she knew how many times I snuck into your room, she never would have said yes." Stacking the plates on the butcher block counters, he waited for another wet item to dry.

"If she knew I was the one who couldn't keep their hands to themselves, she wouldn't have let me stay." Betty shifted her weight, letting her hip roll out a little bit.

"Hey, I told her I'd keep it PG, I did. Sorta." Nudging her hip with his own, she offered him a smile.

"Good thing Polly got pregnant, it was an excuse for my Mom to put me on birth control. Older sister makes mistake, younger sister gets put on the pill."

"Remind me to thank her at Christmas dinner." He nudged her with his elbow,wagging a brow at her.

"Christmas dinner?" She didn't mean to sound so shocked.

"Yeah, or maybe Thanksgiving? You met my family, only fair to meet yours. I think Alice likes me, at least I hope she does." Drying the last dish, Malachi placed it with the others, then flung the damp towel over his shoulder and turned around to watch Betty scrub the basin with the sponge.

"Thanksgiving will work, but we haven't figured Halloween out yet. My friends will want to hang out no doubt, and I have a feeling there's some something extra scary going on at The House of the Dead." She'd rinsed the sides of the porcelain, rinsed out the sponge and washed her hands. Looking for a towel to dry her hands on, she turned in Malachi's direction. He took the towel from his shoulder, drying her hands gently.

"I can promise you, you'll want to bring all your friends to my party. I'll put them on the list just leave me names. Archie already has invitations." He winked at her, tugging her closer to him. The towel flew somewhere behind her, she didn't have time to look, because his hands wove into her hair.

"What should I wear?" She was very nearly breathless.

"Something easy to take off." His lips were hot and hard over hers. She clung to the open shirt for dear life as his tongue plunged into her mouth. The sweet sound of his approval breaking the silence. When he finally pulled away, she took several slow steady breaths to even her heart rate. It was beating so frantically, she thought she might pass out.

"I'll have to raid my Mom's closet again, like I did for our first date." Betty's hands were still tangled in his shirt, and she wasn't letting go anytime soon.

"I think have just the thing, but we'll have to make a trip to The House of the Dead. Kill two birds with one stone." She looked confused. "I have something else I wanna give you. You'll see."

…*...*...

Malachi searched through a box in his office while Betty sat on the couch with Batso. It gave him time to rummage through the collection of stuff he'd packed away years ago. He caught snippets of discussion, ranging from baking to their current topic, which was Rocky Horror Picture Show, between the opening of dusty boxes and totes.

"Have you tried drag? With your bone structure, you would make a beautiful woman." Betty had touched his cheek bone, then his jaw bone. Batso become uncomfortable, eyes darting to Malachi.

Malachi was watching out of the corner of his eye, pulling several garments from a tote.

"I think these are it right here." He stood tall, turning to face the pair completely. Batso was ready for whatever angry outburst was sure to come.

"What is it?" Betty slapped at Batso's shoulder lightly, her eyebrows knit together.

"He thinks I'm gonna Hulk smash his ass cuz you touched his _beautiful_ face." Malachi stood in front of the couch now, hands overflowing with black lace and satin. Betty hadn't looked at his hands so much as at his face.

"You're not going to beat him up for that. We were discussing costumes and characters. It's not his fault." Betty stood now, nowhere near Malachi's stature, but she jutted her hip out and crossed her arms anyway.

"May I be excused Mom and Dad?" Not waiting for an answer, Batso used the arm of the couch to project himself quickly to the door.

"Don't be an asshole!" Malachi sat down, ignoring Betty's imploring stare. He shook out the clothes for her to see. Her angry little face softened to something of appreciation.

"This is gorgeous Chi." She was touching it now, all thoughts of their previous conversation almost forgotten.

"It's just the dress, the corset is still somewhere in this rompel. I'll find it, it's black and teal with gold. Should make your eyes pop." He wasn't trying to imagine her in the corset, it just happened, how could he not?

"A corset? I thought you said to wear something easy to remove?" Her eyebrow arched as she snatched the dress away from him.

"I changed my mind. I want to unwrap you like a present. Try it on, I'll keep looking for the other stuff." He was rummaging through the boxes before she had the courage to pull her shirt from her body.

Turning around for good measure, she let the shirt fall onto the couch, then made quick work of her pants. Sneaking a peek at him over her shoulder, she hurriedly put the smooth taffeta and lace over her body. It fit her like a glove, like it'd been made for her.

"Wow, this is perfect." She twirled around, letting the billowy skirt flow around her.

"It is perfect. Let's see you in this." His hand shot up, a folded piece of material in his palm.

Opening the corset so the small metal buttons were unfastened, his fingers moved over ther satin lace to loosen it.

"Lift your arms, and face me. When I get it around, you'll need to hold the sides so it can be buttoned." She did as she was told, holding her palms to the cool material, feeling the stitching and boning with the pads of her fingers.

"Have you ever worn one before?" Squeezing the first metal clasp to the small stud it belonged around, he looked up at her.

"No, my Mom and Dad frown upon over sexualization of women. Modesty is a virtue, colors and layers were worn for every occasion." She sounded like a robot, she knew it. Malachi just smirked at her, his attention going back to the tedious fastening of the front side of the archaic accessory.

"Corsets are often seen as empowering, a way to harness femininity, to distinguish the female body from that of its counterpart." Having fastened the last metal hook and button, he turned her around, moving her hand with his own, over the front of the item. He tugged on then cool satin string at her back, criss crossing over her vertebrate to hold her tightly.

"Sometimes this part can take your breath away. I won't bind you completely, just enough to reveal the shape." His fingers swept her hair from her back, letting it fall over one bare shoulder.

"Should I hold my breath?" Her nervousness had stolen her moxy, she was hardly loud enough to be heard, but he was so close to her, he heard every word.

"You can, but letting it loose when I start to tug harder would probably be better." He tugged a little more roughly, her body jerking back with his force. "Keep steady, I'm not trying to break ribs here."

She held her feet stable, managing to hold root to the spot she stood with surprising ability. The middle section of the lacing was the most difficult, but his body was then to catch her when she lost hold of her footing.

"Easy does it. Almost done beautiful." One green eye turned to look at him, he'd worked up a bit of a sweat with the work he'd put into tying her corset. The sheen over his face and chest made her yearn for him to take the damned thing back off. Catching her eye with his, it was like he knew what she was thinking.

"Harnessing your female powers my sweet Betty?" He asked, moving closer. The heat of his body melted through the thin material over her backside.

"Not exactly." Was all she offered him. She liked the feel of his fingers working diligently over her, and how his eyes seemed to brighten when he took her in fully.

"Malachi?" She asked sweetly.

"Yeah beautiful?" Almost done with the tugging and binding of his girlfriend, Malachi began looping the long strands in his hands.

"Where did you get all of this?" Biting her lip, she waited for his reply.

"I shop online. Order boxes of shit for my place and hope I want what's in 'em. That mess over there is the result. A lot of costumes and crap, boas and cloaks and whatnot. Comes in handy sometimes." Tying the bow at the top of the swell of her backside, he patted a cheek and smiled.

"What are you going to wear?" She turned around, the shirt flowing again, she felt like a princess, or burlesque dancer, one of the two.

"You'll see when you show up here in a couple of weeks. I still have a few last minute changes to make. You think you can get in that without me?" He was distracting himself with the many containers in the middle of his office. He stood there, cradling his chin between a finger and his thumb. His eyes darting from her shapely body to the mess of things in front of him.

"If I can't, I can have V help. She'd know how. Or I could practice?" Their eyes met across the oil slicked room. Mouth hanging open, Malachi's words caught in his throat. She smiled so bright, his heart faltered.

"Practice is good. If you're up for it. You'll still need someone to pull the strings. Maybe meet me early?" His smile was devilish, coerced heat from the depths of her being.

"I'll be here early babe." She said, twirling around again.

…*...*...

The next couple of weeks rolled by rather dully. The town of Riverdale was stock full of pumpkins, hay bales, and the customary witches, black cats and scarecrows. Betty loved the fall foliage, the crisp orange and yellow leaves that fell to their crumbly deaths over every yard on the Northside. The mornings were becoming chilled with the kiss of wintery breath, dew crystalizing the perfectly manicured grass. She walked a little more quickly, hoping the increased pace would warm her frigid extremities. Had she not have tripped over the crack in the sidewalk, very nearly skinning the palms of her hands, she would have missed the interaction altogether.

Almost to Riverdale High School when Betty stumbled, laying low to the freezing concrete, she heard the raised voices before she seen the people they belonged to.

"How much is he paying you Archie? It must be good, to take a money from that Ghoulie trash instead of an honest days pay at Pop's or the construction site." Jughead was inches from Archies face, their hazy breath mingling in the space between them.

"Jeez Jug! What is with you and this Ghoulie Trash thing? He pays me pretty well, under the table, to fix up some acreage. So what? I'm dealing weed or jingle, Im paying off the medical bills of my Dad's if you haven't forgotten about that. I thought you'd be happy, that I was turning a bad situation into a good one." Archie turned from his old friend, sucking in the cold air through his nose.

"I am happy Arch, just not about your new friend choice. This puts a strain on things." Taking out the pack of cigarettes he kept tucked away in his breast pocket, Jughead popped the filtered end into his mouth and lit it.

"A strain? You can't be serious. I work at the Whyte Wyrm too, that minor detail slip your mind too? Why are you being like this? Mal isn't a bad guy. He's good to his club, his family, and to Betty. If you can't accept the situation you forced into reality, I don't think our friendship will survive." Archie was hoping that his harsh words would slice through the angry hardened exterior of Jughead's heart. They didn't.

"That's my point Archie." He exhaled a cloud of smoke that hung thick in the air, a fog around Jughead's beanie. "How can we stay friends when you're literally the friend of my enemy? When you put _his_ needs above your own club's _Red_?" Jughead's snear made Betty feel nauseous. She had managed not to be caught, slinking around on the ground behind a bush so she could eavesdrop.

"Did you just say that? I pledged, I'm loyal, and FP doesn't seem to have a problem. Only you and your drop out lackies care. When FP tells me I can't watch Hot Dog, then I'll reevaluate my life choices. Until then, try retrieving your head from your ass. It might do ya some good." Archie clapped Jughead on his leather covered shoulder. All Jughead could do was look at his feet. Mindlessly inhaling and exhaling until there was nothing left to smoke. Flicking the the butt on the ground, he smashed it with his steel toe, huffed a little then stormed off toward the school.

Not knowing what to do, Betty half ran into the building, ignoring the inquiring looks of her peers, she headed straight toward Sweet Pea and Archie.

"Hey. What the hell was that?" She hadn't even said hello, mentally scolding herself for being so ride.

"You hears that did you?" Archie slammed his locker shut, tugging the dangling strap over his free arm.

"Yeah, not all of it, but enough. Has he been doing this the whole time?" They had started walking, Sweet Pea stealthily swiping chip bags from open unattended lockers. He smiled to himself until Betty shot him a disapproving look.

"You can't just grab people's food from their open lockers Pea." She shook her head.

"I do what I want _beautiful_." He winked at her, snagging a can of soda and laughing at Betty's wide eyed expression.

"Man, just stop, I told you I'd get you at lunch. You're a bottomless pit." Archie stopped in front of his first hour class and turned to Betty. "I'm not playing his games. I make real money, fast. I have friends on both sides. And who the hell does Jug think he is? Telling me who I can be friends with. As far as I'm concerned, you dodged a bullet Betts. I'll see you guys at lunch." Archie half hugged her then went into his classroom, leaving Sweet Pea and Betty alone in the hallway.

"You know, Jughead spends a lot of time with that Trey kid. Seems more like they're butt buddies if you ask me." Betty's eyes narrowed at him.

"I wasn't, but thanks for the visual, I may never eat again." She let loose a deep breath.

"It's not that bad, and never eat again? That's insane. Speaking of eating. This Halloween Party tonight, you're goin' right?" He nudged her with his elbow, eyebrows wagging up and down on his smug face.

"For fucks sakes, is the pope catholic?" She said, fingers flying to her mouth. "Oh, my goodness, Sweet Pea. I didn't mean to say that." She felt the blush rush into her face, heated cheeks surely flaming crimson.

"Like hell you didn't mean to say it. Remind me to thank my Cuz for dislodging that stick up your ass. Maybe we can actually be friends, family more like, but still. This is my stop. See ya at lunch babe." Sweet Pea winked at her, mouth open, gun fingers blazing as he walked backward into his class. She was frozen in place. Shock setting a rigidity in her bones that only allowed her to repeat the last five minutes in succession. Then the bell rang, and she nearly jumped from her skin, running down the hallway to her own class.

…*...*...

"Mom, this is getting out of hand. Jughead was telling Archie that he couldn't be friends with him because of his association with Ghoulies. I thought you said FP talked to him?" Betty stuck her finger in the cake batter, licking it despite the frown on her face.

"Betty, I don't run the club, and I don't speak for FP. Jughead is in a bad place, he'll come around eventually." Alice let it go, taking a spoon to fill cupcake liners with batter. "Are you going to help me?"

"Nice segue Mom." Betty helped to spoon the batter, dolloping vanilla batter in another set of cupcake liners.

"When do you need to get ready? I don't want to keep you too long." Alice was doing her best to hold onto her emotional reigns. Jughead had become a sore spot for everyone involved. She'd had fulle a blown argument with him about the whereabouts of Betty the weekend before.

"I have to be there at eight. I still can't believe you're letting me go, for the whole weekend, not just the night." Betty finished her twelve cupcakes. Picking up the pan, she opened the oven and set them in.

"Don't push your luck. I'm just glad I put you on the pill young lady! That makeout session FP and I walked in on was getting a little out of hand." Alice finished her last cup and set the pan in the oven alongside the vanilla cakes. Setting the timer, she turned around to look at her daughter.

"Mom, I don't want to keep things from you." Alice let her head fall back, the tension in her neck evident.

"I know Betty, I knew it was coming when I found him here the first time. I'm not overly excited about it, but I would be less excited for another grandchild. Just keep calling in the prescriptions." Betty hugged her Mom tight, grateful for their open communication. "He looks just like his Father, Anthony was somethin' else. Very much like each other, so damned handsome though. Anyway, go get dressed, and call if you need help, I'll be right up." Alice started pouring ingredients into the mixing bowl, as Betty left the kitchen.

Betty still didn't feel good about what she'd heard, or how she seen Jughead treat their oldest friend. Putting all thoughts aside, she began to pull the freshly laundered garments from their dry cleaning bag. When Veronica spotted the fabric poking out from her closet last week, she took it upon herself to have them cleaned and pressed appropriately. Betty said nothing of the corset she had stashed under her mattress. The one piece that She'd kept secret from her everyone. She wanted it to be a surprise.

Removing the corset from under her mattress, she held it up to the light; the gold stitching glinting all over it. Her heart sped up, how would she go to the bathroom in this period garb? She thought better of trying to put the corset on herself, she fumbled with the metal buttons and caught her own skin a few times. With the corset in hand, and the dress firmly in place, she took the stairs as fast as she could. Rushing into the kitchen, Betty held the corset up.

"Hey Mom, I need your help getting this on, and probably my shoes too. Maybe I should put the shoes on first?" She placed the corset on the countertop, and waited for her Mom to answer.

"Oh my goodness Betty. Where on earth did you get that?" Alice's mouth dropped, taking in her daughter's outfit.

"Malachi had it in a box. Isn't it pretty?" She lifted a hand to show her Mom the lace edged sleeve.

"It's incredibly beautiful, very Penny Dreadful of you. What's he wearing? Hopefully nothing Dr. Frankenstein would deem appropriate." Alice wrinkled her nose playfully, taking the corset from the granite, looking at it carefully.

"Mom, stop it. He wouldn't tell me. Says it's a surprise. Maybe he has the whole Dracula thing going on." Betty stood thoughtfully, trying to imagine it.

"Mmm, I do hope it's more like Mr. Chandler, that's man, and the hair. Alright, all buttoned. Now for the binding. Ready?" Alice began tugging before Betty answered.

"Oh, okay. You like the wolfman Mom?" Turning to look at her Mom, Betty smiled.

"I think I like the idea of him, but looking at him is perfectly fine. I guess I know what I'll be doing this weekend. Almost finished, Ms. Ives." Alice kissed Betty's cheek and tugged one last time, tying the bow over her rear.

"Thank you Mom. I appreciate it." Hugging her Mom, Betty felt much better about what she was wearing tonight.

"Is he coming to get you, or is Archie taking you?" Taking the buttercream from the fridge, Alice set it on the counter next to her piping bags and tips. The bell rang before Betty could answer.

"It's Arch. I didn't get to do my makeup yet, or my hair." Her face fell a little, Alice looked at her icing and the cupcakes cooling on racks and bit her lip.

"Go get the door, I'll put this back in the fridge, meet me in your bathroom." Alice would save the day. She had just the thing in mind too, thoughts of Vanessa Ives at seances running rampant in her mind.

Betty opened the door, motioning for Archie to come in.

"Hey Arch! You look great!" His face and neck and ears were all green, with stitches, hair black and sticking out everywhere.

"Thanks! I couldn't figure out to be, my Dad had this hanging around in the garage." Archie looked her up and down, feeling a little guilty for checking her out when Veronica popped through the front door.

"Holy cow B, that's incredible! So glad I had it cleaned for you. Do you still need to finish getting ready?" Her black brows furrowed.

"I do, but jeez, how am i supposed to compete with sexy bride of Frankenstein?" Betty touched the white stripe in Veronica's hair.

"Oh give me a break, Malachi's probably wearing some steam punk God costume or something. Hurry up, I want to make sure we get VIP seating in the VIP lounge." She winked at Betty and lead Archie into the kitchen to wait.

When she made her way into the bathroom, her Mom had everything splayed out and ready to go. All Alice offered was a sly smile. And motioned for her to come with her bent index finger. Betty hoped her Mom wouldn't go too overboard, but who was she kidding? Her Mother was the queen of extra.

…*...*...

It was a little difficult to sit in the car, Betty wasn't used to sitting so straight, or breathing so shallowly. By the time they'd made it to Kevin's, she was starting to breath at a regular pace. Kevin came bounding down the driveway, black from head to toe, even had a top hat on. The dome light in the car shown over the silk hat and the fluttery cape as he flung himself into the car, looking much like Jonathan Rhys Myers from Dracula.

"Hey guys! Wow, who knew, Frankenstein as a stud and a bombshell bride of Frankie! And just who the hell are you?" Kevin turned his attention to Betty, she smiled at him.

"I was going for that Victorian look, but my Mom sort of had her way with me. I guess, I'm a little Penny Dreadful?" Betty's deep plum lips matched her plum rimmed eyes and light shadow. She felt so out of her norm, but everyone had assured her it was perfect.

"Something tell me we are all going to die tonight. Let's go!" Kevin demanded, shutting the car door. Archie obliged and put his foot on the gas, the engine roaring as they took off down the street to The House of the Dead and the co mingling of Serpent and Ghoulie. A little show of mutual respect on the leader's behalf.

Veronica put her special Halloween playlist on, turning the volume up and singing every word until they made it to the parking structure. Archie drove up the concrete rows until they were dumped out into the night. Finally reaching the spaces near the elevator, he parked next to Malachi's 1949 Chevy Suburban.

"This is probably the most insane thing I've ever done." Kevin checked his hair in the rearview, and the delicately red rimmed eyes he sported, just enough dead in his look.

"What about Joaquin?" Betty asked, plum lips drawing up at the corners.

"Nothing compared Malachi and The House of the Dead. I brought my invitation just in case." Veronica touched up her black lipstick, and made sure her undead beehive was perfect.

"You won't be needing that Ronnie." Archie held a key ring up, one similar to Malachi's and Batso's.

"Show off." Betty said and excited the car, as quickly as she could, tugging her own cloak tightly around her body.

The four of them entered the elevator, Kevin in total disbelief, Veronica used to behind the scenes entrances. When Archie stuffed the key into the keyhole and the elevator descended further, Kevin's eyes grew large.

"Okay, this is already cooler than the Whyte Whyrm." Laughter rung out in the cramped compartment, until the elevator doors peeled open to reveal a decadently decorated House of the Dead. Literally.

The walls were draped acid green and black damask fabric, gaudy black and gold candelabras adorned tables around the dance floor. No one was in the room yet, Archie and Betty knew to where to go. Straight through the middle of the room, and Kevin was touching the expensive looking table cloths, black satin and green runners, skulls on every surface imaginable.

"Of course your boyfriend would be a Slytherin when you're obviously a Hufflepuff Betty." Kevin couldn't help himself. The intensity of the club was getting to him, he wanted to dance and let loose and not worry about anything tonight.

"Very funny Kev. I could say the same about you. Through here." Betty pushed on the hidden door and it opened slightly. Archie stepped forward to push it the rest of the way, and led them down the dark hallway.

"Behave alright?" Archie looked at Kevin, a raised black eyebrow wrinkled half of his stitched forehead, and Kevin feigned innocence. Raising his big green fist to the door, Archie knocked twice.

"If That's you Ratso, so help me God!" A muffled voice came from behind the door, then it swung open. Batso stood in all of his glory, in a vampire costume almost similar to Kevin's, save for the black studded leather boots akin to winklepickers.

"Red, Coop Deville! You made it! And who are these beautiful people?" Batso motioned for them to enter the room, they obliged, leaving Kevin to walk over the threshold last.

"Batso, this is my girlfriend, Veronica Lodge. And this is our friend Kevin. Kevin, Ronnie, Batso." Veronica held out a hand, Batso took it, bringing the back of it to his pale lips.

"Miss Lodge. A pleasure I'm sure." He kissed it gingerly then released her hand, turning to Kevin. The eye fuck was blatant, on both of their behalves.

"How do you do?" Batso held an arm behind his back, taking Kevin's hand in his own and shaking it. The exchange was rather uncomfortable to watch.

"Quite well, thank you. What an exquisite establishment you have." Kevin smiled at the end of his compliment.

"Thanks! We've been workin' real hard on it. Haven't we Red?" Batso moved toward Malachi's desk, motioning for them to sit. Betty sat in the arm chair, a new set of pieces that had been picked out, while the other three sat on the couch. Batso sat in the chair opposite Betty.

"Hey Boss! Red and Coop Deville are here! Stop fussin' over your face." Batso took his phone out to check it.

"Is this the new stuff we picked up in Greendale?" Archie asked, touching the Arm of the chair that Betty sat in.

"Yeah. The couch needs reupholstered, so we sent it back a few days ago. Should be ready for pickup next week. So Frankenstein huh?" Batso out his phone back in his pocket, crossing his legs.

"My Dad had it around the house, figured I'd go for it." Archie tugged on the suit jacket, smiling at Veronica who beamed at him.

"Betty, what's this look you have going on? It's very familiar." Batso was playing with his cufflink, swirling a finger over it mindlessly.

"My Mom thought I looked like Vanessa Ives, so she helped with the makeup and hair. Is it bad?" All of a sudden, Betty felt inept in her gown and corset, despite the long curls on top of her head.

"I can see it, it's almost fitting actually." Batso just smiled, the tips of his fingers touching as his elbows rested on the carved wood.

"You don't have to yell everytime you talk, you do know that right?" Malachi's voice came from the dark half of the office. Betty sat a little taller, looking at his face first

"Oh hell." Kevin gulped hard. His fingers ceasing their fidgeting on the velvet sofa.

Malachi stood in front of them, messy curls spilling from beneath a felt derby hat. His black cutaway morning coat was perfectly tailored, the charcoal silk shirt beneath peeking out from the cuffs. His ascot was a brilliant black and gold lace ascot tie that lay over a teal and black vest, a gold chain swept in a scallop over one side of his vest. A pocket watch no doubt. The trousers he wore were the damask pattern that Betty had grown accustomed to over the last month or so. The white part of his black and white Spectator Spat boots was a stark contrast to the trousers covering them. Betty thought she might melt into the armchair, become part of the velvet beneath her bottom.

"Sweet Lord above." Kevin whispered. Saying what everyone else in the room was thinking, aside from Batso. He was used to this sort of thing with Malachi. It just so happened that this time, Malachi had a lady on his arm, rather than a pile of empty Jingle Jangle stix.

"Welcome, to the House of the Dead." Malachi took several long strides to stand front of the low black laquered table in front of the sofa, a strong hand coming to a stand still in front a flabbergasted Kevin Keller.

The boy shot up from his seat, feeling the prickles of nervousness run up and down his spine. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought he was in a dreadfully delightful episode of The Twilight Zone. One where you choose a door to enter and end up in some fantasy world where you forget what it's like on the outside. He much preferred it this way, where there were gentlemen in dress coats and ladies in corsets sipping aged wines from fluted glasses. He was extremely satisfied with his choice in attire tonight, and feeling a rush of confidence from the adrenaline pooling in his veins, he took Malachi's hand with fervor. A good firm handshake, establishing themselves as equals.

"Good evening, Kevin Keller. Very good to meet you. Finally." He smiled proudly.

"Ah, _the_ Kevin Keller? Betty does talk a lot about you. Thank you for coming and good to meet you as well." Malachi was a different person entirely. His demeanor exuded confidence and sex appeal, yet he was a gentleman, the epitome of class and success. It was a good look on him.

"This must be the lovely Veronica Lodge, good taste Red." Malachi winked at Archie before taking Veronica's hand and kissing it softly.

"Very good to meet you, I've heard so much about you. Thank you for extending the invitation." Veronica, ever the poised sofisticate, curtsied, and sat back down.

"The invitation is open, you all are welcome anytime. Permanent name on the list." He was standing straight, turning toward Betty slowly. If he was being himself right now, he would have scooped her up first, fingers grazing over the delicate stitching covering the boning of her corset. He longed to taste her berry lips, watch her emerald eyes slip behind richly defined lashes, but he wouldn't. He had a show to put on, one where he was giving a grand ball for his fellow business associates. Bringing one branch together with another, soldering it seamlessly where they meshed. It was a good idea, one Sweet Pea agonized over for weeks. They'd pull it off, as long as Jughead and Trey steered clear of The House of the Dead tonight.

"Elizabeth. You're beautiful tonight. As always." He held out a hand to her. Just as he'd done every other time since they'd met, and then all of the pieces fell together. He was this man the whole time, every time. His wicked sexy smile had her smoothing her gloved palm over his. Rising to her feet with no hesitation.

They were quite the image, in their black lace and teal accents, they should stay this way forever, disgustingly dignified and ravishingly beautiful. The four other souls in the dark office felt something like voyeurs, getting a glimpse at something they ought not. However, it was difficult to look away.

"Must we do this every time? You make it hard not be a slut when in close proximity to the both of you." Batso stood abruptly, the tail of his cloak billowing after him. "Would anyone like a drink? Maybe a tour? Anything to leave this room."

Archie, Veronica and Kevin all rose from the couch to follow after Batso. Betty glowed crimson from embarrassment. A crook of a finger brought her attention back to the handsome man before her.

"So fuckin' perfect beautiful. I hope that's matte lipstick." He said, the heat of his body mingled with hers, intoxicatingly delicious.

"It is." Her eyes darted between his, letting her lace gloved fingers roam the stubble of his jawline.

"Good." Then his mouth covered hers, hot and sweet with the flavor of tobacco. Her sigh was swallowed by him, their tongues fighting for dominance. Had she ever been anything or anyone like him before? She couldn't remember. She wanted to, but all recollection failed her. He was the first to pull away, his gaze washing over her.

"You ready for some real fun Elizabeth Cooper?" Smiling at him, she agreed. Escorting her from the office, he took her back through the concealed door, and out into the club area. A few dark figures meandered in the low light.

The first to notice their presence came sauntering over, enough ego to force them all from the room, no worry. Dressed in a tailed coat in all his skeletal glory, Sweet Pea wore a smug smirk. His gleaming white teeth rivaled the with his drawn on set of chompers, leaning on his walking stick, his kohl rimmed eyes slanted in their direction.

"Good evening Cousin. Like what you did to the place. Alice sent me over with at least one hundred handmade cupcakes. The guys are loading them in the elevator as we speak. Coop Deville, beautiful, as always." He took her hand, kissed her lace covered hand and hugged her hard to his chest.

"Watch it Pea. Don't make me beat your ass." Malachi pulled the watch from its pocket, checking the time. "It's almost time, maybe we should do a shot, for good luck." The two did their super secret cousin's shake, and walked toward the bar, where the others already were. Fangs looked like he and Sweet Pea had both raided Malachi's boxes, they probably did.

"A round dear Bartender, and one for yourself please." Malachi was getting used to the words falling from his untrained mouth. It might be a nice change of pace for him.

FP and Alice arrived, decked to the nines in prohibition garb. Betty was shocked, the fringe of her Mother's red flapper dress swinging aside to reveal her Southside Serpent's tattoo on her thigh. FP was zoot suited down to his two toned wingtips.

"Hey, don't forget the old fogeys now." FP shouted.

"With all do respect, Mr. J, speak for yourself." Alice teased, reaching for a shot glass.

"To new beginnings, peace on the Southside and a pleasant passage for our loved ones this Dia de Los Muertos to come. Salud!" Malachi brought his drink up to cheers everyone.

" **SALUD!** " They all cheered, clinking their glasses together, careful not to slosh any liquor over the brim, then chugged them back.

"Let's get this party started! Any requests Deville?" Sweet shouted as he ran toward the unoccupied DJ booth.

"I have no idea, surprise me Sweets!" She patted at her lips with a cocktail napkin. The elevator doors opened, a large rolling cat with cupcakes dripping with golden icing came through.

"You outdid yourself this time Alice." FP cooed.

"Anything for my boys, and girls." She smiled, biting her bottom lip.

People began filing from the long corridor that led to the main floor entrance. All sorts of costumed people, some with did up faces and leather jackets. Others fully loaded, their patches incorporated in their clothes. Betty had a feeling this was going to be a good night. Malachi's arm tightened around her waist. Bringing her attention back to the bar, her Mom and FP stood next to Malachi.

"Before Pea lets the beat drop, I have something for you." His hand waved at Batso, and a small rectangular box was set in front of her. She looked up at him, not expecting presents.

"I didn't get you anything though." She felt warm all over, like the heat had been turned on.

"It's not that kind of present beautiful. Open it." A single finger slid the black velvet box closer to her.

Tugging the lace gloves from her hands, she set them on the bar top. Calmly, she took the box in both hands, letting the pads of her fingers relish in the velvety texture. Using one hand to steady the box and the other to grasp the lid, she opened it.

"Oh wow, oh my God Chi." Tears sprung into her eyes, burning at the edges of her eyelids.

Inside was a scrap of fabric, rolled up like a piece of parchment, held together by a ring. In true Ghoulie form, a black stone was surrounded by tiny skulls and bones and smaller white diamonds scattered between them. One fat tear rolled over her cheek, landing somewhere on the floor beneath her feet. Her swelled with emotion. Malachi took the ring and fabric from the box, pulling the ring from over the material.

"You said you wanted everyone to know who you belonged to. I spoke with your Mom, and FP of course. I needed a blessing, from you family as well as your club." Clearing his throat, Malachi, held the ring between his finger and thumb. "Will you wear my patch Betty?" Her smile was so wide, her cheeks hurt. She nodded her approval, several more tears escaping her eyes. Malachi placed the ring on her finger, and kissed her several times.

"Another round my dearest Batso!" Malachi said, laying the patch out on the bar.

The patch was smaller than she'd expected, in block letters white on black, it read:

 **PROPERTY OF**

 **GHOULIE**

 **MALACHI**

"I hope you don't regret this. It kind of means a lot to me." He kissed her temple.

"I regret nothing. Evolve or die baby."


	10. Put Em Up

**Put Em Up**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale Universe.**

…~*~...

Malachi had Ratso sew the patch on Betty's jacket. Ratso then handed it off to Sweet Pea, who was given a 'PROSPECT' patch to add to the mix. Not to mention Toni added some studs to the sleeves. Come that Sunday morning, Betty was officially a prospecting Serpent that belonged to the Ghoulie King. Probably the first in recent history. When Betty returned home, Hot Dog was waiting by the door, all drooly and shaggy hair hanging in his eyes. This meant her initiation had begun, she would be a full fledged Serpent by Christmas, maybe sooner if she did well.

By the time Thanksgiving came around, Jughead was out for blood. He had a separate table of young Serpents that hated her and Archie, who had also been given a 'PROSPECT' patch. Archie got it worse, losing his best friend and having to put up with the antics of angry teenage criminals. On several occasions Archie took knuckle dusters to the ribs, and Mega Sharpies to his locker door. At one point his car had been vandalized and he found a knife handle belonging to Trey himself on the floor boards, it was returned to FP. Church was called, to address the unnecessary bullying of their prospects.

Betty was getting threatening phone calls from unavailable numbers, both at home and on her cell. There was the dead bleeding rats that dangled in her locker and the bags of feces burning on her doorstep. Not to mention that some of the girls had taken to tripping her in gym class and throwing her clothes in the showers.

Fed up and bruised, Betty stood up for herself at the Whyte Wyrm one Thursday night. Tired of being pushed around, used as a punching bag, and locked in the bathroom, she used the incredibly dark rage within her. The metal handle lodged itself in the crumbling drywall when she finally burst through the door She marched herself over to the secluded group of Serpents, Trey stood up with his arms crossed.

"What can we do for ya traitorous bitch, oh jeez, sorry. I meant Betty." The group of girls surrounding Jughead giggled mercilessly. Looking up from his phone, Jughead's face was set in a rigid, unforgiving sneer. "You're very clever. Maybe you could figure out a way to remove your head from your ass. Hey, and Jughead?" His eyes met hers, stormy angry blue meeting shocking volatile green. "If your sluts touch me again, or hang another dead rat in my locker, I will personally _fuck_ each and every one of them up. Do I make myself clear?" Standing roughly a foot from him, Betty's wide eyes searched Jughead's confused face.

"Hey! Who do you think you are, psycho!" One of the girls encircled Betty's leather covered arm with her large hand. Betty's eyes shot to the fingers wrapped around her, then slowly looked into the girls black rimmed eyes.

"Oh shit." Trey backed up, even he knew they had tread on dangerous ground.

"Take your hand off of my arm. Now." Betty's voice was low, and dangerous and incredibly calm.

"Hey Tia, maybe you should listen to her." Trey pulled at the girls free arm, trying to get her attention.

"N-no! She's a- a problem! Next thing you know we'll have a patch over and we'll all be Ghoulie trash. Just. Like. Her." The girl tightened her grip, the palm of her hand pinching Betty's skin between it and the sleeve. She was sure to get a bruise.

"Tia, she isn't Ghoulie trash, she's prospecting to be our sister, a Serpent. You need to respect that. We all do. Now let her go." Jughead was standing now, unsure of what was going to happen.

A crowd had gathered, mostly the younger Serpents, the older ones were standing near the bar and the pool tables. Hog Eye turned the sound system down, so they could hear what was going on from a distance.

"I'll give you one more chance. Get. Your. Hand. Off." Betty's face was inches from the other girl's. Tia's friends had backed off, almost fading into the background. They had no intention of getting knocked around by Betty Cooper.

Tia's grasp grew harder, tugging Betty's arm harshly to the side. Jughead made a move to break the girls up, but FP was there, holding him back. He simply shook his head, and Jughead now knew what was about to happen. Feeling sick to his stomach, he forced himself to watch.

Betty's eyes slanted at the girl, turning dark and sinister; her left fist flew up, colliding with Tia's jaw. Finally letting go of Betty's arm, she stumbled to the left. There was no time for the shock she felt. Nor was there time to stand, because Betty grabbed her by the hair and brought her face down into her knee. The crowd made a collaborative grimace, whoops and howls rung out after the loud crunch of the breaking of Tia's nose. Betty let go of her bright blue hair, cracking her neck and stretching her fingers.

"Come on Tia, you wanted this, let's do it." Taking off her jacket, she threw it to Sweet Pea, who was standing with Fangs and Toni. Toni shook her head, she'd told those girls to leave Betty alone. On more than one occasion. Toni had seen Malachi teaching her to hit in the gym at The House of the Dead. Toni knew for a fact that the Cardenas' were lovers of boxing, fights in general piqued their interest. That's part of why Sweet Pea took on Jughead for his initiation. It was nothing like this though, Tia wanted Betty to bleed.

Tia wiped her face, blood running over her sleeve. She took the bloodied jacket off and handed it to Trey. He was white as a ghost, he had been told about Tia accepting the challenge from FP. She was supposed to get Betty riled up, fuel the fire so they could duke it out. Betty was filled to the brim with malevolence. Tia was nowhere near being equipped to handle what Betty was bringing to the table.

"Are you afraid?" Betty said it low, a hum into the crowd around her. No one moved, no one dare say a word.

"No, I'm not scared. Let me get my bearings you nutcase!" Tia spat blood on the floor between them. Betty's lethal emerald eyes trained on the splatter. With a slow thoughtful blink, she looked back to the blue haired, bloody girl.

Then Tia lunged, meaning to grab Betty's ponytail so she had the blonde under her own control. Tia never anticipated Betty bobbing and swerving out the way. Tia nearly fell over from the force of her lunge. Betty had spun around already, fists protecting her face. Whirling around in disbelief, Tia was not on guard, no protection had been put in front of her quickly swelling nose. One punch, then another and Tia was stumbling, blood pouring from her nostrils and her busted lip.

"You fucking whore! You're nothing but used up Ghoulie shit! No wonder Jughead dropped you after that pitiful dance." Tia stood tall, a full four inches over Betty. Running her tongue over her bleeding teeth, she hawked a bloody monstrosity at Betty's face. Knowing how prissy Betty used to be, it worked. "And your song choice, who even listens to that garbage! You're not even worth the time."

Betty was almost disgusted, more so upset that the spittle and blood went into her eyes. She wiped at her face, trying to see through the disgusting mess on her face. Without her guard up, Tia swung hard at Betty, landing a punch in her gut. Toppling forward, Betty had the wind knocked out of her. The next blow was to her ribs, there was a pop and pain filled her right side.

Then she knew what was coming, felt the wind fly by her face. She put her hands in front of her, grabbing the thigh above the knee that was supposed to connect with her face. Using her anger, and finally opening her eyes, Betty swung the girl to the ground. Tia landed with a thump on the ground, putting her hands up when Betty jumped on top of her.

Tia wasn't unskilled, she knew she needed to fight back, despite the surprises Betty had up her sleeve. So she rolled the girl over, taking hold of Betty's ponytail in the process. A fist landed in Betty's rib cage again, with the loss of breath from another broken rib, Betty did her best to take hold of the blue strands hanging in her face. Her legs were still straddling Tia, she squeezed as hard as she could, and pulled her to the side and clocked her in the temple.

"Come on Tia!" Betty screamed as she got back on top of the girl.

"Fuck you Deville" Tia put every effort she had into the punches she threw next. She was flat on her back, knees behind Betty's spine. Doing some sort of insane crunching maneuver, Tia's fist connected with Bettys cheek, sending her flying from on top of Tia. Betty landed on her right side again, her shoulder popping painfully as she cried out.

"Stupid ass, you never know when to quit." Tia climbed over Betty's body, taking hold her ears. "Say goodnight Bitch!"

Suddenly Betty could hear the roar of the crowd around them, she seen the faces of Jughead and Sweet Pea and FP, all three scared and motionless. Something in her clicked, she took a deep breath, with every ounce of strength she had left, she raised her left fist. It felt like she was in slow motion, her head being raised by Tia's fists, and her own balled up hand was flying through the air toward Tia's head. Her fingers felt like they might have broken on impact. Betty's knuckles crunched on Tia's eye socket. Tia let Betty's ears loose, and began to fall backward.

With Tia holding her beaten face, Betty tried to stand up, but a steel toe caught her right in the bridge of her nose, knocking her back down. Blood flowed freely from both of Betty's nostrils, hot and salty into her mouth, her eyes stung from the impact. She was more in shock than in pain. Her eyes wide and searching the scene in front of her. Tia was laughing, a bloody bubbly guttural laugh. Betty lunged, taking hold of Tia's hair in her left hand. Her right fist came heavy and hard, splitting the blood soaked lips of her opponent. Relentlessly, Betty kept the punches coming. Every bit of her anger and pain from the last three months was spent on the girl's face. Betty only faltered when Tia's eyes slid back into her head. One last blow to the jaw and they were both done.

Releasing the handful of hair, Betty realized she was crying, her tears mixing with blood, rolling down her chin and onto her pastel pink top. Jughead tried to help her up, but she swung at him too. She managed to get him in the chest, scooting away, still on her bottom on the floor.

"Betty, I'm trying to help you." He said, the hurt evident in his face and voice.

"I think you've done enough Jug." Betty's nose still hadn't stopped bleeding. She couldn't breath from it and she was starting to feel light headed.

"I've done enough?! You knocked Tia out, you wear a property patch for another club's President. You severed my crew and took my best friend from me. When do I catch the break Betty, huh? When do you recognize that I was trying to protect you?" Jughead's voice was booming, causing the ringing in Betty's ears to multiply, until she got up from the dusty barroom floor.

"You didn't do it to protect me. You did it to protect yourself, Penny was already taken care of and you all knew it. Don't think that Malachi didn't tell me about the truce between him and FP. I know everything Jug." Jughead, shocked, looked to Fangs, Toni and Sweet Pea, they just shook their heads at him. "I don't see Tall Boy anywhere in here, so that means he was dealt with too. Don't stand there high and mighty when you sat around while these bitches manhandled me at school. I have scars and stitches and more blood in my locker than I lost here tonight. I'm proud of my patches, both of them. I'll proudly wear my snake bite, if I'm ever allowed, but you didn't do anything for me. I gave and gave, time and again, for what? To be humiliated in the parking lot, left to walk home alone, unprotected. Malachi picked up the pieces you shattered me into." Standing in front of him, a mess of blood and snot and tears, she looked him square in the eye.

"You wait just a damn minute Betty!" Jughead was breathing heavy, the start of tears in his eyes. His hands balled into fists at his sides as he stepped toward her.

"No! You have no right to be upset when all I had left was Malachi, Sweet Pea and Archie. I had NOTHING! NO ONE! Go ahead, blame me, blame the Ghoulies, for everything that _you_ caused Jughead. But unless we're fixing bikes or cars together, you don't touch me. Not after how you treated me. I'm yours no longer!" Taking several staggering steps backwards, she turned around. Sweet Pea put her jacket over her shoulders, she slipped her arms into the sleeves as best she could, he already had her bag, already made the appropriate calls. Fangs had towels ready for her face, and her knuckles, he wrapped them gently. They'd patch her up elsewhere. Barely registering that Trey had drug Tia to a pool table, and the club medic was already stitching her eyebrow and her lip, Betty tried to hold her throbbing head up high.

FP was talking with a ferocious looking Malachi by the front door to the Wyrm. The Ghoulie King was all out tonight. His eyes were lined black, and he was decked in studs and skulls from shoulder to toe. He wasn't in the mood for the little show Jughead had put on. He'd stayed in the back, out of sight of the other Serpents, only a few people knew of his presence. When he was told of Betty's fight tonight, he had to be there, he knew she would need him, especially to clean her up, let her pass out in their bed.

Betty was barely standing, how she was walking was beyond comprehension, and Malachi couldn't be more proud. Sweet Pea was holding her up, Fangs and Toni were helping to orchestrate the medical attention she'd recieve at The House of the Dead.

"Hey there beautiful." Malachi's voice resonated in her ears, he was only a few feet away. She stumbled, tilting her head forward, she let her nose drip onto the rag in her hand. It was blood soaked already, and her eyes felt like they might pop from their sockets. FP stepped toward her.

"You did good kid. You rest up, your Mom took Hot Dog over to Archie, it's his turn now. You do your pledge in a few weeks, when you don't look so much like hamburger meat and I'll carve ya. Be thinkin' about where ya want it." FP hugged her hard, careful of her face and the ribs and shoulder she was favoring. Leaning in close to her ear he whispered to her. "Don't worry about Tia, she's getting fixed up now. I knew you could take her. You're a fuckin' spitfire, just like your Mom, Deville." He kissed her unbruised temple, shook Malachi's hand and headed for the bar.

"Come on Betts, we have someone waiting to fix you up at the House of the Dead." Toni was holding the door for them to come through, but Malachi stepped forward.

"I gotchu beautiful." Nodding at his cousin, Sweet Pea stepped away, allowing Malachi to sweep her up into his arms. He was careful not to pick her up on the right side, he knew she must be in a lot of pain. "Let's roll."

…*...*...

Eyes half open, from lack of energy or swelling, she didn't know which. Toni handed her a bottle of water so she could rinse her mouth out in the car, spitting the coppery taste from her mouth out the window.

Toni was good at this, attending the broken Southside kids. She remembered always trying to fix Malachi or Sweet Pea when they'd get into fights at school or on the occasional binger Benny would come home from, Malachi's raging alcoholic Mother would beat on the boys and fall down drunk, usually in her own piss or vomit.

The fact that Toni had the bag of first aid items meant she knew this was coming. They all did. It was only out of Betty's control. She wasn't supposed to know, because she would never have fought otherwise.

"Did Jughead know?" Betty felt how raw the insides of her lips and throat were, flaming and dry from being split open and breathing raggedly.

"No. We weren't sure when it was gonna go down, just had a heads up. Jug didn't even know Tia was given the task." Sweet Pea felt guilty, like he should have said more to Betty. Instead he'd told Malachi, hoped he'd show her enough to keep her on her feet.

The cool night air felt good over Betty's bruised flesh. Laying her head down on the Cutlass door, she let her eyes close, giving into the tired feeling deep within her.

"It was all a show?" Betty's head was getting fuzzy, the throb behind her eyes getting the best of her.

"Tia doesn't put on a show. She enjoyed every minute up until you kneed her in the face. She deserved it, mouthy little bitch." Toni lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply and sent it to her left to Fangs.

"Nothing that any of those chicks did or said to you was a joke, or a lie. They think you're a traitor, that you're not fit to be a Serpent. I think you changed some minds, you really drove it home when Tia passed out though." Fangs breathed in deep, then exhaled, then inhaled again and gave the smoke to Sweet Pea.

"I should have told you. You would have been more prepared. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad." Sweet Pea took his drag and handed it to Malachi.

His right hand was on the wheel, he took the cigarette with his left. Turning his head to look at Betty, slumped in the passenger seat, he inhaled deeply. Relishing the burn in his lungs. Leaving the cigarette in his mouth, he exhaled around it. Switching hands on the steering wheel, he pinched the filtered end between his middle finger and thumb of his right hand. He handed it back behind him. "Tone" He said, smoke billowing out from his mouth.

"Betty?" He asked a little louder. There wasn't an answer. "BETTY?" He yelled it now.

"Hey, Betty? Can you hear me?" Toni gave the cigarette to Fangs as she halfway flung herself over the seat. She patted Betty's face, careful not to touch the swollen areas.

"Jesus man, you think she has a concussion?" Fangs was leaning over the seat too. Giving Sweet Pea the last of the cigarette.

"Maybe, or exhaustion?" She's got blood all over her face still, so who knows. We're almost there Betty, please answer me." Toni climbed completely into the front seat. She managed to get Betty's head up.

"My whole face hurts, and I'm foggy." Betty managed to say.

"It's from the blow to your nose. We'll get you taken care of. I need you to sit up more." Toni was on her knees in the front seat, between Malachi and Betty. Patting Betty's face with a damp cloth, she was able to remove some blood and assess the damage a little better.

"We're almost there baby, try to stay awake." Malachi was pushing the engine now, it roared violently with acceleration.

"Oh, oh my God." Feeling the bile rise up in her throat, Toni looked back at Fangs and Sweet Pea, then behind her at Malachi.

"What? What is it?" Sweet Pea grabbed the back of the seat, launching himself over to look at Betty's face. "Dude, this is bad, Mal, I think we need more than a medic at the clubhouse."

Malachi stopped abruptly in front of The House of the Dead, throwing his door open, he was out before the others registered what was going on. Toni held Betty up when the car door was wrenched open by a frantic Malachi. The boys were exiting on the driver's side, slamming the heavy door shut with a thunk.

Not caring about her bruised and broken ribs one bit, Betty held tight to Malachi when he pulled her from the car. Toni exited after Betty was removed, shutting the door behind her, hands shaking, and blood stained. All she could think about was the bone protruding from Betty's face, and the raw tissue surrounding it, the bulging from the nostrils. The steel toe had done incredible damage, more than they had seen at the Whyte Whyrm, it was no wonder Betty couldn't breath.

"Rat! Open the goddamn door man! Hurry up!" Malachi looked at Betty's face in the light of the alcove. He felt a surge of anger course through his veins. Her nose was in the wrong place, the bridge partially protruding from the torn flesh.

Racing through the open door, the medic came to look at Betty in Malachi's arms. He stopped his prodding, and looked at Malachi.

"You have to take her to the E.R. I don't have the tools fix this here." The Ghoulie medic held up his hands in surrender.

"What do you mean? You work at Riverdale General. I told you to be prepared Scrubs." Malachi held Betty tighter.

"She needs surgery, the swelling, that's not normal. That's bleeding in the cartilage, if it goes untreated, the cartilage dies. Then the surrounding tissue dies. Bye bye pretty little nose Boss. We need to leave now, I'll make arrangements with Doc too. Meet you on the Northside." Scrubs grabbed his bag, and his jacket and took off for the elevator. Malachi turned around, going back to car out front.

"Get in! Call FP, tell him it's gonna be a long night, meet us at Riverdale General."

…*...*...

The boys had Betty take her jacket off before they entered the hospital, it went into the trunk with everyone else's. Malachi buttoned his shirt and took off as many chains and studs as possible. He looked almost normal, except his eyes, which Toni threw him a makeup wipe for.

The two club medics were colleagues, friends for a great many years. When Betty came through the doors, slumped in Malachi's arms, they had a wheelchair waiting for her. Watching the two doctors take her back beyond the ominous double doors of the emergency operating room, Malachi felt his heart break. He'd watched so many of those duels over the years, it didn't register to him when Betty had been kicked that this was sometimes the outcome. Sometimes with the girls, as ruthless as they are, there were stitches in faces and missing patches of hair. These girls were lucky to not be wearing brass knuckles or have jewelry in their heads. He'd done his best to ensure Betty's outcome would be favorable, but he never thought a boot to the face was possible. It said more about the other girl's character, rather than nature of the fights themselves.

With his large hands tugging at the poof of curls on the top of his head, he took a deep breath. He knew it was just a regular surgery, that they did this stuff all the time. He trusted these guys more than anyone with his girl, but it didn't change how helpless he felt. Malachi, for the first time in probably almost a decade, wanted to cry.

"Come and sit down man, standing here waiting isn't gonna make it better. At least relax your body, your mind will have to wait." Fangs put a hand Malachi's back, looking down the corridor at the doors himself.

"Yeah, you're right. I never even thought it would get this bad. Bitches kick each other all the time. She had to have had a fuckin' steel toe. She knew the duel was tonight and she wore fuckin' steel toes." With one last deep last deep breath, Malachi let his hands fall to his sides. He turned around, and slowly walked to group of chairs his cousin, Fangs and Toni were sitting in.

"She's gonna be okay Mal. Betty's a hard ass." Toni said patting his knee, he halfheartedly smiled at her, then let his head fall into the palm of his hand.

It was quiet, except for the sounds of typing on keyboards and printers, and a random phone call somewhere behind the intake desk. Then the opening of the automatic doors and boots on tile filled the tiny lobby. FP was holding Alice tight, her mascara was in streams down her cheeks.

"Malachi! What happened, is she alright?" Alice reached for him when he stood. His large arms engulfed her sobs, he looked to FP with a grimace.

"That bitch had to have had steel toes on. The bridge of Betty's nose busted through her skin when it broke. The swelling isn't normal. Scrubs said something about cartilage death, blood collecting wrong. I dunno, but your chick needs re-educated on a fair fight." Malachi loosened his grip on Alice. Patting her face, she looked from FP back to Malachi.

"What do you mean steel toes, and a fair fight? What happened?" Alice knew the fight was coming, they always did. It was just a matter of time and it always ended with sore knuckles and a bruised up face. Not surgery and concussions.

"At one point Betty had the upper hand, and well, Tia kicked her in the face. Square in her nose. We could hear the snap." Sweet Pea was the one to speak. He'd stood, feeling overwhelming guilt. "I told Mal it was comin' and he was teaching her how to fight. We didn't think Tia'd fight dirty. She doesn't like Betty, sure, but no one thought she'd intentionally hurt her."

"Where is Tia?" Alice whirled around to look at FP, hand on her hip.

"She's been patched up. She got stitches over her eye, on her lip, and over her cheekbone. She's also being watched for a concussion." FP finished, and Alice raised an eyebrow at him. "She's at the Wyrm, in the guest dorm."

"So we just wait then. Wait for Scrubs and Doc to finish and hope Tom doesn't hear about this. These secretaries are well paid I presume?" Alice sat down, her purse straps falling from her shoulder.

"Their Thanksgiving will be spectacular Alice." FP reassured her, sitting next to her.

"I can't believe this happened. We all get beaten. It's the right of passage. I don't understand these young ones anymore FP. This all has to stop." A fresh set of tears spilled over as Alice gasped for breath.

Toni sprang up from her seat, taking a box of tissue from the table beside her and offering it to her a weeping Alice. Accepting the box, Alice blew her nose, and took another tissue to clean her face, hanging her head. They stayed in silence for what felt like hours. Ratso and Batso showed up, then Jughead and Trey showed up as well. It was an uncomfortable silence, until the double doors swung open. The two Doctors walked silently toward Alice, FP and Malachi.

"Alice, thank God you're here. Betty is stable, she's in recovery now. It could have been a lot worse. With the impact she took to that part of her face, we could have been pinning her eye sockets together, but she was lucky. She may need another surgery to remove scar tissue, but that is far down the line." Doc, rubbed Alice's shoulder as she took a deep breath.

"We drained her septal hematoma, and fixed the deviated septum and stitched her back up. We'll keep her here, for the night. Keep checking the hematoma, and keep her comfortable. Other than that, she's right as rain. Give her a couple more hours, they'll move her to a private room. You can stay if you want." Scrubs shook Malachi's hand first, then FP's. Alice looked at him, and smiled.

"Thank you Scrubs. I knew you'd be able to fix it. You two should work together more often." Alice hugged Scrubs and then Doc.

"Well, removal of sticks from Northsider asses isn't exactly lucrative Alice." Doc laughed, shook Malachi's hand turned around. Scrubs followed shortly after.

"Thank goodness!" Alice said, resting a hand over her heart.

"Let's go to Pop's, gets some food and come back to see her. Sound good?" FP waved to everyone in the lobby. There was a silent agreement, and they left the hospital.

…*...*...

"Malachi! I just iced the cake, and put on a fresh pot of coffee." Pop's smiled at him when he came through the door.

"I'll wait on the cake for now Pops, maybe take a piece to go though. Coffee sounds incredible!" Malachi sat at the bar area, feeling the weight of the day on his shoulders.

Sweet Pea, Fangs and Toni came to sit next to Malachi, all three reaching for menus. Then FP and Alice came in, sitting in the booth behind Malachi. Batso and Ratso filed in, sitting in the last two seats at the bar. Finally, Jughead and Trey came through the door, sitting across from Alice and FP in their booth. It was silent aside from the clanking of Malachi's spoon on the sides of his coffee mug.

"Hey, this is an odd bunch. Where's Betty?" Pop's brows furrowed, the creases in forehead evident. He looked around the diner, then at Malachi.

"Initiation tonight. A fight at the Wyrm." Was all Malachi said, taking a sip from his cup.

"She got hurt Pops. She's at the hospital." Sweet Pea filled in the blanks, sort of.

"My goodness, I'm sorry. Alice, Malachi." Nodding his head, Pop's went to work on orders that were never placed. He knew just what to do.

Malachi, with his mug in hand, turned on his rotating diner seat. Chin pulled down toward his sternum, eyes lingering over Trey and Jughead. His elbows rested on the smooth linoleum bartop, he sipped again.

"Obviously this Tia chick had it out for Betty. She knew to wear special boots and all. A little convenient. Even so, bitch should probably learn some etiquette." Malachi waited for someone to acknowledge him, it wouldn't take long.

"Watch who you're callin' bitch, Ghoulie." Trey was quick with the mouth, just like he was in the video.

"Rats, show Alice the video." Ratso stood up, a cell phone already in his hand. He took it over to the table, laying it down for Alice to see.

"What's this? No one told me?" Alice looked from Trey to Jughead, then to FP. "You let your son and his goon harass my daughter, at school no less?" Alice spit with venom.

"I didn't let it go, I was with Mal when it went down, watched the video with him. I called church and it seemed to be resolved. I thought the Halloween party would solidify the truce between clubs, but these two wanted to keep the shit goin'. They broke into Archie's car, and other stuff. Deplorable." FP looked at his son and Trey.

"I didn't tell anyone to do anything. They can see what kind of people the Ghoulies are for themselves." Jughead brought a hand up to his mouth. His thumb rubbed at his worn bottom lip.

"That's your excuse? It used to be one club. The Ghoulies broke off in _our_ parents day. There was a conflict with rules. Ghoulies don't make their girls dance. Women are respected, allowed to move ranks. Drugs ruined the Ghoulies, but do you see drugs now Jughead?" Alice was on the verge of tears.

"No, not in awhile. Doesn't change how they are. Betty acts just like them. Archie's been doing jobs for them. I don't believe for a second that Malachi's sober, or that he treats Betty right for that matter." Jughead jabbed a finger into the air toward Malachi.

Throwing his head back, Malachi laughed, dark and menacing. Swivelling in the seat, he set the mug on the counter and stood.

"See? That's the cool thing about me, I don't give a fuck." His large palms were face down on the table between FP and Jughead. He spoke low and dangerously, every word meant for Jughead's ears. "Not about you, or what you think about me Jug. Head. What I do give a fuck about is my Ole Lady tore up in a hospital bed that one of your bitches put her in."

"Your Old Lady? You're really goin' there Malachi? Are you kidding me?" Jughead's eyes squinted at Malachi, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"She wears my patch don't she? Just cuz you haven't seen my skull on her body doesn't mean it's not there." His dark eyebrows rose on his forehead as Malachi stood straight, taking several steps backwards from the table.

Alice's eyes went wide, she looked ghostly as she realized what Malachi was saying. Her hand held tightly to FP's, and all she could do was let out a strangled sigh.

"I'm sorry you had to find out about it this way Alice. I wanted to tell you before, but Sweets told me about the fight and I couldn't let her go into it blind. Good thing I didn't cuz look how it turned out." A ringed hand rose to gesture toward Jughead and Trey.

"Jesus FP, did you know?" It was a whisper, Alice felt like her heart might beat out of her chest.

"I had a feeling when Mal kept calling her his Lady, but no, I didn't know." FP held a hand out toward Malachi. "Congratulations are in order then."

"Thank you FP." Malachi shook FP's hand, and waited for Alice to say something.

"Wait a minute. What are you talking about?" Confused, Trey looked around at his fellow Serpents, he wanted to know why Alice was so upset.

"Old Ladies, Alice, my Mom, Birdie, Tangie, Calypso, Vina. They all have property patches or Serpent tattoos." Swallowing against the bile rising in his throat, Jughead let his head fall forward.

"But they're all married to club members. What does Betty have to do with it?" Trey was trying think, his quick wit faltering when it mattered most.

"It means Deville is the Ghoulie King's wife, for all intents and purposes, there was no legal document binding them, but still. Sheesh kid, aint too bright when club matters arise. Maybe keep a handbook at the ready? Club law is more important than pussy and flingin' hate at your prospects." Batso said from his swivel seat at the counter, shaking his head and laughing to himself and his brother.

"Your wife? How?" Trey looked at FP and Alice, confusion written all over his face. He almost looked pained.

"I'm only legally married to Gladys." FP said matter of factly.

"Only legally. Nice Dad." Jughead slid down in his seat a little, forearms resting on the table.

"Alice was my Ole Lady long before your Mom came around boy, so you better watch it." A long finger came up between them. FP was irritated with Jughead's behavior.

"Have some respect Jughead." The voice came from behind Malachi. Fangs didn't like the way Jughead spoke to the elders, it pissed him off really.

"Club law means more than social order Jughead. You can ignore it for awhile, but it always come back around in the end. I wear your Dad's snake bite, that's something your Mom never even wanted." Patting her eyes with a tissue from her purse, she was tired of crying, but it hurt to know that Betty didn't even tell about the tattoo.

"Maybe she seen through all the bullshit." Jughead spat.

"Or maybe your Mom didn't take shit seriously, like you don't take shit seriously Jughead." Sweet Pea said from his own swivel chair.

"Don't start with me Sweet Pea. You've been playing both sides since Betty got involved in this." Jughead crossed his arms.

"I've been playin' both sides since I was born, so has Fangs and Fil and Malachi. That's beside the point, did you even watch the same girl I did? I think you're blind man. That girl loved you so much she took her clothes in the Wyrm for you. Not for money or a favor in return, but for you, to show _us_ she has what it takes. What did you do?" Sweet Pea was standing now.

"I went through the same initiation you did Sweet Pea." Jughead tried to defend himself.

"No! What did you do for Betty? I'll tell you what you did. You walked outside, ripped her heart out, stomped on it and left her. Didn't have the decency to take her home or make sure she was safe. She walked here." Sweet Pea's index finger pointed to the tile floor. "In late September at one in the morning. Alone, with nothing on but that see through outfit she had on. The same one she stripped off for the club, and you have the audacity to sit there and act better than the rest of us?"

"I didn't know. I thought Alice was going to drive her home. How was I supposed to know she was going to the dorms with my Dad?" Jughead let a tear slip past his eye. His hand shot up and smeared it onto his cheek.

"That's not the goddamn point!" A fist came crashing down onto the table top. He was no longer a Dad, but the fierce leader he was always meant to be. He didn't often show his son this side of him, but FP Jones had had enough. It had all gone too far. "You were handed a jacket, fully equipped with a patch, top rocker and all. Yeah you got a busted lip and some bruised ribs, but you earned your snake bite nonetheless. Betty? She got the raw deal. Dumped because of Penny Peabody? I told you the whole story boy!"

"It doesn't mean she's safe." Jughead interjected.

"I'm pretty sure six feet under lye and dirt, Penny's not a problem." Toni added, the whole diner looking at her. She shrugged.

"Now, this is how it's gonna be from now on. Ghoulies and Serpents are no longer at war. We don't have beef. You squash this shit right now! If you can't get behind your club, your President, then hand me your jackets right now, and blackout your ink tonight. You have your machine Mal?" Silence fell over Pop's Chocklit Shoppe. Trey and Jughead traded looks.

"I sure do." A sly smile slid over Malachi's lips.

Sliding from the booth, Jughead stood in front of Malachi. Taking a deep breath, his right hand rose.

"I'm sorry Malachi, to you and Betty both. I accept the truce, wholeheartedly." Malachi looked Jughead up and down, trying to find a reason he should be wary.

"I accept your apology, but, you have to apologize to Betty on your own. I don't speak for her, she's her own woman." They shook hands, and Jughead moved over for Trey.

"I'm sorry about Betty. I didn't think Tia would go that far. I accept the truce." Trey was a little shaky, but Malachi deemed him alright and took the kids hand.

"Well, now that we're all friends here, can I please hug my new Son in Law?" Pushing at FP's shoulder, Alice smiled.

"Son in Law? Makes it sound all formal." Fangs was beaming at Malachi.

"Shut up Fogarty." Batso and Ratso chimed in.

"Come here Ma." Malachi motioned for Alice, and he bent down slightly to hug her. " I really am sorry. We wanted to tell you."

"I know you love her. You're good for her, and she's good for you. Besides, you can make this all up to me at Thanksgiving dinner." Alice kissed his cheek.

"I was hoping to get an invitation to Thanksgiving. Right on Mama Coop." He winked at her, and shot her a wicked smile.

"Alright, that's enough. Let's eat and go see our girl."

"I'm almost done, you guys are too mushy." Sweet Pea said with a mouth full of food.

"Yeah yeah yeah." Adjusting his belt, FP stepped forward to grab two plates for Alice and himself.

Malachi sat in his seat, taking his wallet from his cutte pocket. He flipped the worn leather open, pulling several bills from the fold. Motioning for Pop's with his head, he held out a discrete hand to the older man.

"Pop's, you're a lifesaver. An angel to the destitute. Whatever you do, don't look at these bills until we've left." Pop's smiled at Malachi, slipping the bills into his pants pocket without so much as a question.

"What's with this cake?" Batso asked beside Malachi.

"It's the most incredible thing you'll ever put in your mouth." Reminiscing about last time he'd had the cake, Malachi looked down at his lock screen of his phone. Betty's bold green eyes stared back at him. Biting his lip, he tucked it in his pocket.

"Send. Betty my love." Placing a large paper bag on the counter, Pop's simply winked and started cleaning up.

"Will do Pop's, thanks again!" Turning to his cousin and friends, Malachi waited for them to finish. It wasn't long, but the five of them rose from the counter, plates and cups stacked neatly for Pop's.

"See you at the hospital." Wiping her mouth with a napkin, Alice waved at them as they left.

…*...*...

Betty's nose was wrapped in bandages; an IV still in her arm. Alice let silent tears stream down her face. It hurt her to see her baby this way, at the hands of her own club members. Tia would be dealt with as soon as her own injuries healed. Malachi was on the other side of the hospital bed, holding tight to Betty's hand, snoozing while he had time.

Alice and Malachi were the only ones to stay, the others filtered through to say hi, leaving quickly out of respect for Alice. Archie had stayed a while, taking over Alice's seat while she went home to retrieve Betty's much needed change of clothes and such. Feeling guilty for not having been there with Betty at the Whyte Wyrm, he explained to Malachi that he'd been avoiding Jughead and his new chronies. Malachi divulged that would no longer be necessary, that they were all at peace now, Archie was relieved and left to go call Jughead.

At some point, both Malachi and Alice fell asleep. FP and Alma showed up at the hospital around the same time, meeting accidentally in the lobby. FP took the large bag from her, and escorted her to the room. Betty was awake, looking around the room through blackened eyes and trying not wake her Mom and boyfriend.

"Oh my God! Look atchu poor girl! What did they do to you?" Alma didn't care if anyone was sleeping. She set her purse down on her grandson's lap, pushing his clingy hand away from Betty.

"I think I took a steel toe to the nose. I don't remember too much." Betty tried to speak clearly, but she was sore and her nose was stuffed still.

"Pobre sita, those damned fights. You'd think we were savages." Alma motioned for FP to bring her bag over, he set it on the foot of the bed.

She pulled out several containers. She set them on the bed. Next came a large white candle, a book of matches and a glass. Kicking at Malachi's feet, she put a fist on her hip.

"Abuela? What the hell?" Sitting up quickly, Malachi rubbed his face, then looked at Betty. It broke his heart to see her so beat up. But he stood kissed Betty's forehead then moved, letting his grandma through to the table beside Betty.

"You watch your mouth young man, I'm not too old to kick your ass. Now help me." Her hand rose with the long lit match over the wick of the candle.

Opening the containers, Malachi handed her the one with water, and she dumped it in the glass. He then offered her the salt. She set it next to the glass. Picking up the egg, Malachi inspected it for any impurities.

"You don't trust my judgement?" Alma had turned to look at him, one inky black eyebrow raised on her perfectly caramel forehead.

"No, I'm just looking. I have to know what to look for don't I?" She waved him off and lit the candle, waving the match around to extinguish it.

They prayed together, both holding the egg as they moved it from Betty's head down toward her feet. When they had rubbed the egg all over her body, Malachi cracked it into the glass of water and inspected it.

"See, right there, exactly what I thought. Jealousy." He showed the glass to his Grandma, and she shook her head.

"Throw the salt in it. Then we can throw it in the toilet." Malachi poured the salt, swirled the glass around and immediately went to the en suite bathroom. He flushed the toilet then washed the glass out with bacti stat. He washed his hands and wrapped the glass in paper towel.

"Someone is jealous of you girl. Be careful of that club of yours. You should heal up nicely, no evil eye to speak of. When you're feeling better, come by the house, I have something for you." Bending over, Alma kissed Betty's forehead, pat her hand and turned toward her grandson. "You take care of her, she's special."

"I know Abuela, I know. Thanks for helping." He hugged her and kissed her cheek. She hugged FP and was gone before Alice woke up.

"What just happened Malachi?" Betty asked, completely confused.

"It was an egg cleansing. I asked Grams if she'd do one with me so you'd heal right. Old world stuff beautiful. You'll find out soon enough." Malachi offered his seat to FP.

"When do I get to go home?" She lifted her arm with the IV in it, it was sore, she remembered the pop from when she slammed into the floor of the Whyte Wyrm.

"Soon, that's why I'm here. Doc called, said to meet him here. You're an unofficial patient. So we need to get you out of here pretty soon." FP reached over Betty in the bed and nudged Alice awake.

"Hmm.. Oh Betty." Alice's face fell as she finally seen the damage in the light of day.

"It's okay Mom. I'm alright. We have to leave though." Betty sat up a little more, feeling the stiffness in her joints.

"You ready for this?" Malachi said, wheeling himself in on a wheelchair.

"I'm ready for home." She said, trying to smile, bit failing due to pain.

"Alright Layla Ali, let's get this IV out, change the bandages and you are free!" Doc came strolling in, a Serpent jacket on his back, and jeans and riding boots to match. Pushing his sunglasses up over his head, he took off his jacket and laid it over the foot of the bed. He turned to do some washing up in the bathroom, and Alice went to the closest to retrieve Betty's clothes.

"Now, although it wasn't this bad, Tia was pretty smashed up. I must say, I haven't seen a brawl like that since your Mom." Chuckling to himself, he bumped Alice's hip with his own.

"Oh stop it. It wasn't that bad." Alice started helping Doc open the gauze packages.

"If you say so sweetheart. The girl went home missing teeth. She looked like a crackhead when you were done with her. Patchy hair, nail marks on the neck and arms. Hog Eye still tells that story." Doc started pulling the surgical tape from Betty's arm, quickly taking the IV out while distracting her with stories of her Mom.

"Doc, you're embellishing." Alice got the biohazard bin so Doc could throw away the IV and drip bags.

"Hardly Alice!" FP laughed in the corner.

"This is probably gonna hurt darlin' I'm sorry, but we're out of time and I gave FP a bottle of our finest pain meds to take home with ya." His fingers gingerly touched her skin, tugging the paper tape from the delicate swollen skin around her face.

She took in deep breaths through her mouth, trying the keep from whimpering. She'd survived the whole ordeal thus far without so much as a tear, she wouldn't be crying today.

"You're a goddamn trooper Deville! Takin' it like a champ! Shit Sweets even let loose a little noise. Not you though. Smith women are brutal bitches I tell ya what. Ain't that right sis?" Nudging Alice with his elbow, simultaneously asking for more gauze and antibiotic ointment.

"No one would ever know if they'd just keep dirty mouths shut. You'd think people would figure it out after the first time." Handing Doc the clean dressings, she took the dirty ones to throw away.

"Hand me that mirror FP?" Doc took the plastic handle from FP, bringing it up to Betty. "This is your face Deville. Here is where the boot collided with your nose, pushing your septum up into the bridge of your nose. If it was a normal boot, you would be home with some tylenol, you and boo over there, Netflix and Chill, am I right?" He laughed heartily, Alice rolled her eyes.

"Anyway. Carry on Doc." She didn't want to hear anymore, Alice just wanted to go home.

"Alright boss, chill out. So, the bridge broke through here, and the membrane surrounding your cartilage filled with blood, that's why you couldnt breath. Scrubs has a skilled hand, should probably build bombs or clocks, whatever. He put all the pieces back in their tiny little places and boom! Your nose will be cute as a button when the swelling goes down. Your shoulder was barely dislocated, but its all cozy in the socket now. Knuckles, hamburger. They're fine, bruised like some of your ribs. Other ribs, not so lucky. They cracked, you're wrapped, they will heal. No River Vixens for you girlfriend, already have Toni talkin' to Cherry Bombshell over there. What else. Oh yeah, your birth control is up to date, but we gave ya new script anyway. I think that's it Deville. Let's wrap ya up and get the hell out of here."

They were quick and quiet, cleaning the room and grabbing any sign of their presence there. Betty was already tired after getting into her Mom's station wagon, but she missed Malachi too. He'd kissed her, promised to be by later and left in the Cutlass. When they were finally driving home, Alice decided it was time ask about the tattoo.

"Betty, I wanted to ask about Malachi's skull." Betty jerked her head to the left, bad idea.

"What? How do you know?" Feeling like she might find herself in trouble, Betty slumped down in the seat.

"Malachi let it slip in an argument with Jughead. He's really quite frightening when he wants to be." Smiling, Alice looked sideways at her daughter.

"Yeah, he's good at being frightening. It was the day after the Halloween dance. He did it himself." Betty started playing with the sleeve of her sweater. "It was so sweet Mom, he almost cried. I almost cried."

"Do you know what it means Betty?" More scared of Betty having full knowledge than of her not, Alice held her breath.

"I do. I knew before. Are you mad at me?" Worried more than before, she took a deep breath.

"I'm not mad Elizabeth. I would have liked to know. Maybe been there when it happened. I don't know. Maybe not. I feel like I'm losing you." Her heart felt heavy, a somber weight she hadn't felt when Polly had taken off with the Twins.

"You're not losing me. I'm not going anywhere." Betty felt a little better, not getting yelled at.

"I invited him for Thanksgiving. I might hear it from Alma, but we can move times around." Alice chose to change the subject, not wanting a cry fest when Betty needed to rest and heal.

"Did he get excited? He was wanting to come over for Thanksgiving." Doing her best to keep her nose stable, Betty tried not to smile.

"He was excited. He called me Mama Coop. I guess that's where they got Deville from? Coop Deville." Laughing to herself, Alice pulled the wagon into the driveway.

"Those boys are pretty smart Mom. You're really not mad?" Placing a hand over her Mom's, Betty squeezed slightly.

"I'm not mad. Just tired. Let's get showers and some rest before those unruly boys start flooding in through the door." Alice unbuckled her belt.

"Okay Mama Coop."


	11. If You Can't Beat 'Em

**Give Thanks**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

… **~*~...**

Thanksgiving had finally come to Riverdale. Betty was still in bandages, both on her face and her ribs. The boys had helped her at school, alternating who held her books and bag for her. Tia hadn't shown up, her face was worse for wear, and she hadn't tried to reach out to Betty so they could shake on their squashed issues.

Either way, there was turkey in the oven, Malachi hadn't been able to rearrange his family's meal time, so Alice changed hers. Polly came into town with the twins and was more than a little weirded out by the presence of FP and Jughead, who had also shown for the occasion. How could they not be invited for Thanksgiving? They'd been around nearly everyday since the fight, FP staying over more often than not.

The timer dinged on the oven and Alice scampered over in her slippers, wrenching the oven door open, baster in hand.

"Calm down Mom. You're going to have a heart attack." Shaking her head, Betty continued to pipe the deviled egg mixture into the egg whites.

"It has to be perfect. I don't want these boys eating dry turkey. Did Jughead tell you? They eat tv dinners every year. How could Gladys do that to them?" Squirting the buttery chicken stock on the bottom of the roaster pan over the slightly browned skin, Alice huffed to herself.

"Not everyone is a domestic Goddess for a Mom. We can't all live up to your standards." The last of the mixture had been deposited into the final egg white, and Betty was dusting paprika over the tops of the eggs.

The oven door shut, then the front door shut. Betty looked up from her perch at the kitchen island. A huge bouquet of autumn flowers came through the door, followed by a beaming Malachi.

"Malachi! Those are beautiful, let me get a vase." Depositing the baster on large ceramic spoon rest, Alice flew to a cupboard on the other side of the kitchen.

"It's no problem Mama Coop. I just wanted make the house festive. Check this one out." He wagged his brows at Betty, bringing a longer flatter arrangement from behind his back. The flowers were small yellow delicate bunches dispersed with shoots of wheat and large multicolored leaves.

"That's beautiful. You have hobbies I don't know about?" Betty kissed him, and waited for a reply.

"Nah, I was helpin' Grams with all the settings for the soup kitchen. She let me make a couple to bring over. She said it's rude not to bring gifts. Can't be rude on Thanksgiving beautiful." He gave her smug half smile.

"This one should do it. Large enough to fit the stems, and quant enough to let the blooms shine." Placing a simple yellow glass vase on the island, Alice's eyes fell to the arrangement already sitting there. "You made this one too?"

"Yeah, I was watchin' Grams, thought I'd try it out. It's not bad is it? You can fix it if you want." Suddenly feeling like a scalded seven year old,

Malachi ran his fingers nervously through the curls on the back if his head.

"Oh no honey, this is _perfect_ , it goes exactly with my settings. Thank you Mal, it's very beautiful." Alice leaned up, kissing Malachi's cheek before scooping the arrangement up to place it on the dining room table.

"You did good Cardenas, it's hard to please Alice Cooper." Picking up the tray of deviled eggs from the counter, Betty took them to the fridge.

"What about these?" Malachi had placed the stems in the vase, letting go of the bunch so they could fall into place.

"Oh, I'm not about to tell you where to put decorations in my Mother's house. She might behead me." She'd come to stand next to him, admiring his large hands touching the delicate petals of the sunflowers and lilies dispersed in the vase.

"Is there anything else you need to help with? Put me to work." Satisfied with how the bouquet looked, he met her arched eyebrow and arms folded over her chest with a toothy grin of his own.

"Put you to work?" Her hip jutted slightly, she was still in a little bit of pain.

"Tell me where you want me beautiful." His voice was low, driving home his double entendre.

"I want you alive, so maybe tone down your innuendos until after dinner." She had missed him just as much he missed her, but if her Mom walked in and heard the illicit mumblings of Betty's intoxicating boyfriend. Alice would blow a gasket.

"After dinner huh? Is that a promise?" The tips of his fingers ran along the column of her throat, a shiver moving down her spine.

"I promise that if you keep this up and Mama Coop hears you, the Ghoulie King will be missing an appendage." A maniacal smirk spread across Betty's face. Despite her bandages, it was the perfect hint of danger and it revved Malachi's engine. He leaned forward, eyes bouncing from hers to her feline like smirk.

"I'm not even on Mama's radar babe. It's you who's gonna be the death of me, and damn if I don't welcome it." He kissed her quickly, hearing the sweeping of Alice's slippers on the hardwoods behind him.

"See? That's just incredible. You're sure Alma didn't make this, it was you Malachi?" She winked at him. Taking the vase in her hands, holding up for the sunlight to catch the individual petals.

"No Ma'am, it was all me. We made roughy a thousand pieces this week. Abuela would never let me have my breaks from school, I had to help in the shop every year." He beamed at Alice, greedily soaking in the compliments like sunshine on a beach.

"Well, this is as good as Alma's work, wouldn't be able to tell the difference. You did good hon. Okay, go get dressed, FP and Jughead are coming from the Wyrm with Sweet Pea and Fangs." Alice took the vase, looking for the perfect place to set it.

"What's wrong with what I have on Mama Coop?" Malachi lifted his arms, looking at his chains, studded cuffs and his wide open shirt front, the smile he gave Alice almost reminded her of his Father.

"You listen to me young man." A long polished nail poked into the shirt over his heart. "This attire may be appropriate for your Southside meetings with ignorant children adorned in stolen Halloween decorations, but here, in this home, you will dress accordingly. I love a man in leather and chains myself, but there's a time and a place. Today, your _all_ on my time. I have some things in Betty's room you. Button your shirt." Alice, tugged at the edges of Malachi's shirt, a smile playing on her lips. He simply nodded at her in compliance.

"Come on, this should be fun, and you can help me with my face." Betty took his hand, tugging him from toward the stairs.

...*...*...

Dinner went off without a hitch. The table was filled with good food, good spirits and plenty of conversation to go around several times over. By the time the plethora of pies hit the autumn themed tablecloth, the topic at hand was a bit of sore spot for half od the table.

"So you guys have all this times four tomorrow right?" FP waved his hand over the table, looking from Sweet Pea and Fangs to Malachi.

"Oh jeez FP, don't remind me. I was trying to forget the shit parade we're about to go through." Malachi set his fork down on his plate, taking a deep breath and looking to his cousin and friend.

"That bad?" An eyebrow swiftly lifted on Alice's face is questioning.

"It's pretty bad Mrs. Cooper. Between my Mom and Malachi's, we might as well be dining with Satan himself." Stuffing a large spoonful of pumpkin pie and whipped cream into his mouth, Sweet Pea let his eyes roll closed in adoration.

"I'd rather eat with old Lucy, it'd be way less dangerous." Fangs sucked in a breath, shaking his head at the thought of what could possibly happen the next day.

"It can't be worse than the last time, can it?" Alarmed, Betty looked at the three boys, panic began to settle in her chest.

"Let's just say that what you endured was a fancy dress party compared to a full frontal holiday situation. Wait til you see it." Fangs laughed to himself, reaching for the blueberry pie.

"I think I should put the babies to sleep, this conversation is a little much for them. It was nice to meet you all." Polly stood, sending apprehensive smiles to all around the table.

"Let me help you. Boys, you'll have to pardon me for a little while." Reaching for of the yawning babies in a highchair, Alice smiled at everyone and followed her daughter to the stairs.

"Now that the kiddies have left the room, be serious, how much do they hate Betty?" FP leaned over the table a bit, eyes locked with Malachi's.

"Full on hellfire from my Mom. She hates Alice, hates me, Betty's just a casualty of war." A warm palm rubbed over Betty's spine, reassurance more Malachi than for her, she placed her hand on his thigh under the table. They let the silence fill in the blanks, they were all thinking the same thing.

"I can honestly say I'm not envious." Jughead offered a playful smile. "Having Mrs. Cooper hate me seams a whole lot better than an entire family."

"I dunno Jug, Mama Coop is pretty damn fiery." Fangs reached for the cherry pie now.

"Either way, if you need a way out, let me know and I'll send a flare." Winking at Betty and Malachi, FP stood from his seat. "Oh, Betty, I've been meaning to ask you. How do you feel about Baxter high school?"

"In Greendale? It's not bad. Their principal is a little backwards, but other than that, it's alright." Betty looked at smirks around the dining room table, this had something to do with her last task, and they all knew it.

"Good, good, anyway. I have dish duty." Walking from the dining room with dirty plates in hand, FP smiled to himself.

"Alright, explain." Folding her arms over her chest, Betty sat back in her chair and waited.

"Don't look at me, I became a Ghoulie." Hands raised in surrender, Malachi couldn't help the knowing smile that was etched on his face.

"Relax Betts, it's not a big deal. Your job will be simple enough. You won't even break a nail." With a wink and his signature smirk plastered to his face, Sweet Pea rose from the table, gathering the empty dishes and the whipped cream. "This challenge won't land you in a surgical procedure."

"Maybe a jail cell, but definitely not a hospital." Finally finished with the tasting of all pies present, Fangs picked up his own dish and the remaining pies and went to the kitchen.

"You have to break in. There's something in the auto shop that may interest you. If you can pull it all together, you get your patch and bottom rocker upon your return to the Wyrm. If you decide to do this, you're lookin' at two weeks from now. Oh, and bring your tools." Sitting quietly, gauging Betty's reaction, Jughead waited.

"Okay. I'll do it." Determinedly, Betty reached across the table, taking hold of Jugheads clasped hands. "Thank you Juggie."

"If anyone deserves this Betts, it's you." Taking hold of Betty's hand, he smiled at her. A small pang of longing jolted his heart, but he was happy for her.

Alice came strolling in, obviously in the know already. "Who's ready for clean up?"

"Do we get to stay for the slumber party too?" Fangs stood, smile wide over his face.

"You can, as long as you don't keep the babies up young man. That goes for you too Sweet Pea. Jug, extra pillows and blankets in the closet at the top of the stairs. Come on. I don't want to be up all night." Alice was already giving out orders, sending the five of them in all directions.

…*...*...

It was quiet, the boys downstairs had taken to turning to living room into a giant fort they'd never had the luxury of building as children. Even Jughead got excited at the prospect of turning the stodgy area into a seriously well constructed sleep dome. Malachi laughed when Sweet Pea had asked Alice if it was okay to move the couches around and use extra sheets. Amused, Alice let them grab the hammer and nails and some extra sheets and blankets from the basement. They all hugged her and promised to put it back before everyone had to leave for the Cardenas family meal.

With a calloused finger running over her pulse point in the darkness of her room, Betty hooked a leg over Malachi's boxer clad hip. Dragging her thigh over his muscled abdomen, he hummed low.

"You trying to get me murdered? FP knows how to get rid of a body." His fingers wound through the hair at the base of Betty's head, his thumb running over her bottom lip.

"He's not that good at it. Or you wouldn't be here, an ex addict making truces in county. Saving me from freezing on my way home." Her tongue snuck out from her mouth, tasting the tip of his thumb.

"Careful beautiful." Sucking in his bottom lip, his teeth sunk into the full flesh of it. Allowing his hips to buck into her, her eyes fluttered closed.

"Or what baby?" She whispered.

"Or your Mom won't let me stay over anymore." His teeth grazed over her jaw, a hot palm slid south over her side, coming to rest over the same thigh that was perched over his hip.

"Her lack of permission never stopped you before." Betty was right, he'd never asked to stay before now, but he'd taken every article of clothing from her body while her Mom slept just down the hall.

"So, maybe I'm turning a new leaf." He was already tugging her pajama shorts down over her hips even as the words left his lips.

"Right. More like trying your luck at keeping quiet." Her fingers were pushing the elastic band of his boxers over his ass, the tips of said fingers pushing gently into his skin.

"Me needing to keep quiet? You're just wrong beautiful." The moonlight illuminated the room enough that he could see her brilliant smile, that she was teasing him along.

"I think you're pretty vocal all on your own. Especially when I-" Her words were swallowed when his tongue plunged into her open mouth.

Shorts and boxers and panties all done away with under the frilly duvet, Malachi's finger tugged the spaghetti strap of Betty's shirt down over her shoulder, effectively rolling her onto her back at the same time.

"Think you can keep from waking the house up?" Their noses were touching, and his hands held onto her shoulders.

"Just love me Chi." Her fingers were tickling his sides.

"I'll love you as long as you let me, beautiful."

…*...*...

The boys woke early the next morning careful not to wake anyone with their deconstruction of the fort. Jughead folded the blankets and sheets and took them back to their tote in the basement. Sweet Pea took their slept on bedding and ran it all through the wash. Fangs cleaned up the nails and took them and the hammer back to their home, then started in on some pancakes for the house.

By the time Alice and FP came down for coffee, Fangs had made enough food for a small army. Grateful not to have to cook, Alice hugged the boy and sipped from her steamy mug. Polly and the babies came down the stairs next, freshly dressed and ready for the day. Feeling a little overwhelmed with the leather clad boys the night before, Polly was more at ease this morning. She accepted help from Fangs, who offered to help with feeding. The four other souls in the room collectively smiled and went on eating and talking about the day.

Malachi padded into the kitchen first, his shirt was buttoned, much to Alice's surprise. Jughead handed him a plate, which Malachi accepted with a nod of his head. Stacking several pancakes in the middle, drizzling syrup over top, he placed it in front of Betty when she came to sit at the island.

"Who's ready for today?" Sweet Pea had a nervous smile plastered to his face. "I'm not."

"Will you relax? Just keep stuffin' your face, refrain from answerin' anyone directly and we might be able to escape unscathed." Fangs clapped a hand on his buddy's shoulder.

"I wouldn't bet on it. The Aunty's are in full swing today. Fresh meat, remember?" Malachi sipped at his coffee, eyes meeting Betty's.

"Please stop talking about it like we're jumping into a lake filled with piranhas." Betty stabbed a bit of pancake, shoveling it begrudgingly into her mouth.

"Oh, but we are Betty. It's worse than the league of evil ex boyfriends. This is worse than Gideon." Malachi laughed at their inside joke.

"Haha. I don't think it's funny. I'm nervous." Gulping down half her mug of coffee, Betty side eyed Malachi. She missed her nice normal mornings. Mornings when she didn't feel like she might die from the stress. "Is my face alright? I don't want everyone asking about it."

"You've healed up nicely sweetheart. It's barely noticeable. We should all be so lucky." Alice smiled at Betty, then went for a baby. Scooping up Dagwood in her arms and kissing him on his chubby cheek.

"Let me finish getting ready and we can leave early. I promised Miss Alma I would stop by before everyone else got there." Betty finished her coffee, placing the mug in the sink with her already soaking dish, then raced for the stairs.

…*...*...

"I was hoping you'd come by soon. Today is as good as any." Pulling a box from the top shelf in her closet, Alma swiped at the layer of dust that had collected on top.

"I probably should have come sooner, but I had to catch up on school work. I was a little embarrassed too." Twisting her fingers in her lap, Betty wiggled her nose and looked out of the bedroom door toward the living room.

Malachi was sitting on the couch with Sweet Pea. They both smiled at her and winked, she felt the blush rise over her cheeks. The bed dipped next to her, Alma's hand took hold of Bettys, warm and inviting. Smiling, Alma lifted the wooden lid. Inside was a dark satin material, it was sectioned off into several smaller spaces. Alma's fingers took hold of a small black hinged box. A jolt of excitement shot through Betty at the sight of it. Glancing back at Malachi, Betty bit her lip, he definitely knew what was going on.

"My Anthony was supposed to get this box, give it to Benny, but she's not like you." The older woman smiled at the nervous girl next to her. "I know it seems like a lot, you're young, a senior in high school. You can handle this mija, you're everything he needs, and so much more. Come here you little shit!"

A loud obnoxious laugh rang out, Betty watched as Malachi and Sweet Pea playfully punch each other. A scuffle from the couch to the bedroom door had Alma shaking her head, the chandelier earrings she wore made a tinkling noise with her movement. The boys righted themselves before entering their Grandmother's bedroom, smoothing out their button up shirts and adjusting their belts and ties.

"You really don't know what you've got yourself into Betty. Payasos. Knock it off, be serious for once in your life." Looking from one of her grandsons to the other, Alma silently prayed for strength.

"Sorry Abuela." They spoke in unison, hands straight to their sides, no nonsense going on now.

"Sure you are, a picture of grief the both of you. Mira, Malachi, you give it to her." Alma had waited for quite some time to hand this particular piece down. Fil would be sure to throw a fit, let him, if he dared. Alma was sick of the mind games between Benny and the boys. This Thanksgiving wouldn't showcase her Mal as the piñata for everyone to take a verbal whack at.

Malachi took the small hinged box from his Grandma, looking her in the eye for reassurance. She winked at him, a small smile playing at her lips. Taking hold of Sweet Pea's hand with her own, Alma tugged him to her. His long arm swung up and over her shoulders. They watched and waited.

"You don't have to marry me for real for real, but you're inked so you can't run now." The look on his face was fierce, her heart skipped several beats with its intensity.

"I'd follow you to hell back Chi, now open the box." Betty's eyes didn't leave his, not until Malachi lifted the lid, exposing a chain and pendant. Now her eyes welled with emotion, the significance of what was attached to the silvery chain was almost too much.

"Leopoldo gave this to me as an engagement present. I was a Ghoulie you see, no one really talks about it anymore. Little bits of information everyone likes to forget. Abuelo carved it himself." Alma touched the small pendant, remembering a time long since past.

"Grandpa was a badass." Smiling to himself, Sweet Pea looked at the necklace too, remembering when his grandma used to wear it.

"You want me to have it? Seriously?" She'd never been given something so important. A one of a kind family heirloom, handcrafted by a fallen Serpent, she felt so honored.

"No offense, but I don't want Fil to get his hands on this, it wouldn't mean to him what it means to you Betty. I want you to have it." Alma took hold of the box, and Malachi pulled the silver cord from it's resting place.

Unclasping the necklace ends, Malachi looked the pendant closer. A small skull wrapped in the body of a snake, it was the perfect symbol for who and what Betty was. Malachi had been swallowing hard against the ball that rested in his throat, painful and unmovable. He wasn't one to cry, especially at times like these, so he cleared his throat as Sweet Pea turned Betty around. Malachi lifted the ends of the necklace, bringing it above Betty's head so he could lay the skull between her clavicles and fasten the ends at the back of her neck. Betty's fingers instantly reached for the carving, wanting to touch the detailed knife strokes. Her cheeks flamed, all she could do was try not to cry as Sweet Pea looked at her with much more respect than he ever had before.

"Damn Betts. That's sick." Seeing his friend wearing the symbols of his family's past had Sweet Pea puffing out his chest. He felt the shift the same that his Grandma and Malachi did. They all held their heads up a little higher at the sight of Betty representing them, because that's what she was doing. Betty had inadvertently brought their skeletons out closet for all to see, for everyone to stop feuding and act right, a reason for Alma to finally tell Benny what was really on her mind.

"It's perfect mija. I knew it was for you when you held this one together at family dinner." Alma laid her hands over Malachi's and Betty's arms, she nodded at Sweet Pea for him to do the same. He obliged, his large hot palms nearly scorching Betty's skin when they touched; it almost felt like electricity.

"This is the blessing Abuela?" Nervousness overtook Malachi all of a sudden. Meeting Bettys eyes, he seen that she was already smiling. Releasing a deep breath, Malachi kissed Betty's cheek, then hung his head.

"Mira Betty, you're family now. No turning back, you couldn't shake us if you tried." Sweet Pea winked at her.

"Let's do this before your _Mothers_ show up and ruin everything, pinche pendejas." Alma hung her head and began to speak in Spanish. Nothing Betty had ever heard before, but she kept her eyes shut tight, her fingers pressing into Sweet Pea's and Alma's forearms.

With her eyes shut, surrounded by her new family, Betty felt a surge like sensation, she almost opened her eyes, but something told her not to. It was one of the most spiritual sensations she'd ever experienced in her life. The heat from Malachi being pressed in behind her settled her nerves, keeping her from tipping over at the wildly unusual feeling of energy's being shared between the four souls in this room right now. Alma's fierce rolling tongue began to slow, words coming out longer, with a quieter tone. The older woman loosened her grip over Betty and Malachi, stepping back slightly. A final squeeze from Sweet Pea and he whispered "Amen", and released them from his grasp as well. Betty took a deep breath, and opened her eyes.

Nothing was the same, but everything had stayed exactly how it had been before the closed her eyes. Alma wiped a stray tear from her cheek, a smile of adoration turning the corners of her lips up.

"Now we can set the damn tables. Making me cry, you little shits." Alma waved a hand in the air, and exited the room. The wooden box on her bet almost forgotten, she turned back around, picking it up. "Sweet Pea, when you stop acting like a five year old, and bring your hyna home to dinner, I have something for you too. Put this back in the closet please. And don't snoop damn it."

"Who says I haven't snooped already Abuela?" What a way to break the tension.

…*...*...

How on earth were there so many people in one place at one time? How had Betty not anticipated this happening? She stood still next Malachi, he had worn the jacket from Halloween at his Grandmother's request that they dress up for this occasion. Tugging at the necklace that was a stark contrast to the all black form fitting modern victorian dress she mow wore, she had found it laid on her bed this morning. Malachi noticed the action from the corner of his eye. Leaning in close to her he whispered in her ear.

"You look amazing. Perfect with that necklace, wifey." His fiery lips pressed into her cheek, a shiver ran it's way down her spine.

"I'm going to be the subject of hate for years to come, I just know it." Worried, Betty looked over Malachi's smug face for any sign of reassurance.

"Fuck 'em beautiful." His eyebrow shot up slightly, and he kissed her again.

"You'd think they'd learn from previous experience that they all suck. You're stunning by the way Betts. Good choice 'Cuz." Sweet Pea wagged his brows at Betty, popping an olive stuffed with cream cheese into his mouth.

"Thanks Man, you didn't do too bad yourself with that jacket. A frock coat yeah?" Malachi stole an olive from the small container Sweet Pea was holding.

"Hell yeah, I hope you don't mind, I kind of snagged it from The House of the Dead. You had like six." Another olive, Betty shook her head. She'd spent almost two hours stuffing cream cheese into those damned olives and the boys kept sneaking hand fulls. She had to send Fangs to the store for more.

"Where's Fangs?" Looking all over the room, Betty couldn't seem to spot him.

"All these people staring at you and you're worried about Fangs?" Leaning in close to Betty's ear, Sweet Pea whispered. "He had a few drops to make, should be back from Greendale by the time Grams allows us to carve the bird."

"Alright Pea, back up off my lady. Maybe find your own?" A protective arm snuck around Betty's shoulders. Smiling to herself, she put a hand over the middle of Malachi's chest, the pads of her fingers feeling the smooth surfaces of the buttons there.

"Wasn't tryin' to snag the only pre-approved babe in the room Mal. I was letting her in on Serpent's business." The olives were all gone now, Sweet Pea left the empty container on the table full of unopened bags of chips, then folded his arms in front of him.

"So you admit it, you think she's hot?" A wicked smile graced Malachi's features. Sweet Pea let his head fall back, a wide toothy grin so much like Malachi's Betty had to smile too.

"You are a son of bitch Mal. Truly, you are demented." Meeting Betty's gaze, Sweet Pea kept his wide grin. "I must say though, if you hadn't of been wooed by my Cousin over here, I would have definitely swooped in and stole you right out from under Jughead's nose. No question there." With a wink and nudge on her chin with his bent finger, Sweet Pea walked away.

"Well, I'm not uncomfortable or anything." Again, Betty played with the pendant, running her fingers over the smooth and textured surfaces.

"Uncomfortable because you would have been fine with Sweet Pea snaggin' you, or because he just admitted he thinks you're fine as hell?" Tugging Betty away from the room, Malachi snuck them down a hallway. Reaching for a doorknob, he pushed the door open and pulled her inside the dim room, locking the door behind him.

"Uncomfortable because you two seem to always be having a pissing contest, and I'm almost always the reason for it." He'd already lost his jacket as Betty spoke. Her hands ran up his silk covered forearms as he ran his over her fishnets under her dress.

"It's not a pissing contest beautiful. I knew the whole time he liked you. You're just too innocent to see when these boys are lustin' after ya." His lips and tongue left a hot wet trail down her throat.

"He's not lusting after me Chi." His name came out almost as a sigh when he lifted her to straddle him.

"God I love when you say my name like that." Laying her down over the bed he'd managed to bump into, his fingers found her cheeks.

"Your whole family is showing up here soon. Some are already-" He cut her off with his tongue, urgent and plundering her mouth. His hips bucking up into hers.

"Wow! Last night wasn't enough?" A voice slid through the room, effectively turning Betty's body rigid. With wide eyes, and a tightening grip in Malachi's hair, Betty searched for the point of origin.

"I totally fuckin' forgot." Malachi lifted himself slightly from Betty's body. The two males speaking simultaneously.

"Jack and Jill bathroom." It was Sweet Pea who flicked the bathroom light on, letting the light spill around him in the doorway.

"I ain't tryin' to steal your lady man. She's my friend. I care a lot about her, and you. Feel free to mark your territory though, but I'd do it quickly. Your Ma just rolled through with Fil and Dre." Turning from the display on the full size mattress of the spare bedroom, Sweet Pea pulled out his phone to check messages.

"How long were you lurking in there Pea?" Tucking his shirt back into his pants, Malachi came to stand next to his cousin.

"Long enough. I was smokin' a bowl. Couldn't you smell it? Nah, probably not through the toilet paper roll and dryer sheets." Handing Malachi his chillem and lighter, Sweet Pea let his eyes wander over to Betty who was pushing her dress down over her thighs. He was a sucker for fishnets afterall.

"Hey! Who's in that room Sweets?" Fangs came into view on the other side of the bathroom. Betty let out a long breath, pushing through the boys to get to the bathroom mirror. "Oh, well damn."

"Damn is right. I have to fix my hair and my lipstick." Betty started pulling pins from the back of her head.

"You might want to check your lipstick too cuz. It's not exactly your color." Making a little grimace at Malachi, Sweet Pea moved out of the way of his irritated cousin.

"I came to find you, your Mom is here." Fangs leaned is backside on the bathroom counter, looking at Betty for the first time. "Oh shit. Is that what I think it is?" His fingers skimmed her sternum as he lifted the pendant from between the lapels of her dress.

"It sure is. Abuela gave the blessing this morning. You missed it man, but duty calls." Sweet Pea handed the toilet paper roll to Malachi.

"Damn! Oh well. At least I'm here for the brawl." Rubbing his hands together much like Montgomery Burns, Fangs face lit up.

"It's not gonna end in a brawl. Didn't you bring anything nicer to wear Fogarty? Grams is gonna get your ass if you walk in there like that." Giving Sweet Pea back his weed and lighter, Malachi pointed to the jeans and t-shirt Fangs was wearing.

"I have to change. That's why was coming in here, but you clowns were all locked away. Hope you don't mind, I took a few things from your never ending supply of suits and vests." Leaving the bathroom, Fangs went for the black bag on the bed in the adjacent room.

"All is well brotha. Did the Moms look pissed?" Wiping at the lipstick on his face, Malachi nudged Betty's hip with his own.

"Not any more than usual. Although, I am glad I get to go home to _my_ Mom. She's crazy, but damn, not like your Mom's." Fangs had disappeared somewhere in the other room, the sounds of belt buckles and zippers coming from the recesses of the dim lit room.

"Well, I'd take your crazy Mom over mine anyday Fangs. Total bullshit, I have to get high just to eat a meal with Kitty, the super fun meth addict." The lighter came to life, the flame lapping at the darkened end of the glass tube that was in Sweet Pea's mouth. Betty watched it with fascination.

"Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all. Let's get this shit done already. All I wanna do is get my Lady home and chill. You jokers comin' over tonight? I've got four other rooms with no one in 'em." Slipping his arms through the sleeves of his coat, Malachi waited for an answer from Fangs and Sweet Pea.

"I'm too down. Can we roll with you after this? I got a ride back from Red." Fangs came into view, the brilliant gold vest he wore was a stark contrast to the charcoal frock coat he wore.

"Of course. Are we all adequately inebriated and ready to be dead inside?" Raising his arms in the air beside him, Malachi let that devilish smirk tug at his lips.

"Let's do this. Betts?" Sweet Pea held out an elbow to her and she smiled at him. Accepting his arm, she laced her own through his and they exited the bathroom together.

"This doesn't exactly backup your claims of innocence Sweets." Malachi flicked his cousin's ear from behind.

"Ow. Son of a bitch man! I was just being a gentleman. Damn!" Holding Betty's arm tighter to his side, Sweet Pea led her through the doorway to the hallway. "This is where I have to leave you to the wolves Betts. May God bless and protect you." Half kidding, Sweet Pea kissed her cheek and let her arm loose.

"What a moron. You'll be fine. At least we know you can take a punch." Fangs clapped Betty on the shoulder, winking at her as he moved past her in the hallway.

"Last chance to escape beautiful." Taking her face in his palms, Malachi searched Betty's eyes.

"I know I'm not going to win your Mom over, or Fil, but I'm here for the long haul. I'm not going anywhere." Lifting herself up on her tiptoes, Betty kissed Malachi lightly on the lips. Wiping the lipstick from his mouth with a smile.

"Good, because they spotted us. Come on, let's sit." Guiding Betty through the throng of cousins and aunts and uncles, hugging every person amd introducing Betty to them, it felt like took about fifteen minutes to get to the table with Sweet Pea and Fangs.

"Jesus. Took you long enough. At least you're still alive, for now." Fangs was laughing, slapping the back if his hand on Sweet Pea's arm.

"Don't forget you're sitting at the big table Fangs, there's room enough for the bitches of Southside to impale you and set you in the lawn." Malachi slid Betty's chair in for her, then took a seat himself.

"Hey now, let's not give those bitches any ideas alright Mal?" Sweet Pea leaned over the table a little.

"Sweets, have you been drinking?" Concern written all over her face, Betty grabbed at Sweet Pea's lapels, sniffing him again.

"Just a little baby girl, don't trip. Fangs partook in the pre dinner drinky drink. You're not yellin' at him." Laughing loudly, Sweet Pea gave Fangs knuckles.

"Keep it down Pea, what the hell. Your Grandma will be disappointed. Here, eat one of these." She popped a mint into Sweet Pea's mouth, he started chewing, leaning on his elbow and watching Betty.

"You gonna save us from our junkie Mother's Betts? Where were you ten years ago?" Patting Betty's arm, Sweet Pea sat back in his seat, shaking his head.

"I'm trying to save you from the wrath. I can't keep you from their terrible choices, or what they've already done, but I can save you from yourself. Betty felt her heart break at the look Sweet Pea gave her. She wished like hell she could take away every angry instance, every hate filled word, every sting of a belt or the clap of a hand that Sweet Pea and Malachi endured. She wanted to keep them locked away in her heart, safe from the inhuman degree that her boys had grown up in, but alas, she couldn't. She could only hold a hand, give a breath mint or send home food weekly. Sweet Pea would never say it, but he could seriously call Betty one of his best friends.

"Let me see you." Bettys fingers slid through his thick black hair; so different from Malachi's, but so very similar. She fixed his jacket, and did her best to put as much love in her small touch as she could. He deserved at least some love, from someone other than their Grandma.

"Thanks Betts. Honest to God, thank you." His face set in seriousness, Sweet Pea squeezed Betty's smaller hand in his own. For an instant, Sweet Pea forgot that his Mother was making her way over to their table. That she was drunk or high on meth, maybe both; a far cry from his toke in the bathroom amd a swig from Fangs flask of whiskey in his breast pocket. For a split second, he felt what last night was like. To sit with family, peaceful and calm. But they all sat in the eye of the storm, the center of the chaos and hell that would be let loose in mere moments as Kittie and Benny made their way toward the table.

"How convenient, the Northsider is holding down the fort. Alas Benny, all is well in the world." A beyond skinny woman, looking about forty years their senior pulled on the back of a chair with long chipped red nails.

"I bet that's not all she's holdin' down." Fil laughed to himself, well aware that he'd been heard.

"Fil, enough!" Alma's booming voice shut the catty bunch right up. "Sit down and just shut your dirty mouth. I'm so tired of it."

With dirty glances in Betty's direction Benny, Kittie and Fil sat down at the table. Andrea and Alma followed after them. It was the most awkward silence Betty had endured yet. She could feel the eyes all over her, scrutinizing her silently.

"I'd introduce you Betty, but there really is no need. That's Kittie, my Mom. She's really very lovely, as you can see." Sweet Pea's face fell, meeting his Mother's angry glare.

"You should be more respectful Sweet Pea. You only get one Mom." Kittie smiled at her son, it wasn't lost on Betty that the woman was completely high out of her mind. Her frantic little movements and ticks reminded her of when she had volunteered at the rehab center in Riverdale.

"My bad Ma. I'll try to remember next time." Deflated, ashamed, wishing he hadn't have had that last swig of whiskey. Sweet Pea let Betty hold his hand under the table. She was grounding him, being the friend he desperately needed at this dinner.

"When are we sayin' grace Miss Alma? I'm starvin'." Kitty plopped herself into the folding chair, letting her purse flop to the floor in a thud.

"Actually, now. We were waiting for you to get here. GRACE everyone!" Alma made the sign of the cross then bowed her head, took hold of Malachi's and Fil's hands. The whole room seemed to follow suit, signing the cross then holding hands and heads dropping, it was total silence as everyone waited.

"Bless us oh Lord, for these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty. Through Christ our Lord, Amen." There was a collective "Amen" around the room. Then the sign of the cross and everyone lifted their heads.

"The boys cut up the turkey for us this year, be thankful for them. Be thankful our newest generations coming up. For their protection, both Ghoulie and Serpent. Be thankful for those that ground us and help us in our darkest hours. Be thankful for your life. Go on, eat." Abuela waved a hand. Legs of chairs began to screech all over the room, people standing and moving to the large banquet table that Betty and the boys had set up earlier.

"Malachi. Sweets, Betty, Fangs. Go on. I need a moment with these ones here." Alma motioned toward the rest of the table.

"Okay Abuela." Fangs waited for Betty rise, when she did, the whole table seen the skull wrapped in a snake pop out from under the lapels of Betty's dress.

"What the hell is that? Where did you get that?" Benny was clear in her hate filled tone, the venomous words falling from her lips as she stared daggers at Betty.

"My necklace? Abuela gave it to me." Not knowing what else to say, Betty touched the skull, holding it dear to chest. The others around the table looked at her with shock.

"Let's see the ink baby girl. I don't believe this one settled down for one minute." Kittie pointed a boney finger in Malachi's direction.

"You don't have to show anyone anything Betty. You don't owe them shit." Sweet Pea ran his thumb over Betty's wrist, offering her the same comfort she gave to him.

"It's okay Sweets. I'm not ashamed. Malachi, would you?" Turning around, she motioned toward the zipper of her dress. Reluctantly, he took hold of the zipper and tugged it down her back. His fingertips pushed the fabric from her shoulders. She turned around again, allowing almost everyone to see her exposed shoulder blade.

"Nice work man. It's beautiful." Running a finger over her skin, Fangs admired the skilled work on her back.

"Thanks Fangs." With his irritation piqued, Malachi tried his damndest not to let it show.

"So you inked her. Good for you little brother. Don't change what she is and _isn't._ " Leaning back in his chair, an arm dangling over the back of it.

"Imma let Grams deal with you Fil. Ignorant ass sonuvabitch. Come on beautiful." Taking hold of Betty's hand, Malachi turned her back around and tugged the zipper back up.

"I'm glad I showed up for this one Miss Alma, you've had your hands full. Congratulations to you both! Seems a little odd though, skippin' generations." Salty and sulking, Kittie crossed her scabbing arms over her lap.

Fangs tugged on Sweet Pea's jacket, then walked toward the table. Tapping on Malachi's shoulder, Sweet Pea followed his friend. Malachi put an arm over Betty's shoulders, holding her tight to his side.

"Does this happen every time? I mean, do they have to be so goddamned mean Chi?" On the verge of smacking the hell out of Malachi's aunt and Mother, Betty had balled her fists at her sides. The familiar bite of nails digging into her flesh gave her the much needed energy release that she craved. Malachi stopped their strides, taking both of Betty's hands in his own.

"Yeah. We tried to tell you. It's their favorite past time. It won't ever change." Malachi's heart ached when a tear slid down Betty's cheek. Immediately he wiped at the moisture.

"I'm surprised you made it this long Deville, those women are ruthless. You're lucky it's only been verbal assaults." Fangs handed her a plate.

"I don't want to eat with them Chi. I don't like them, not Benny or Kittie or Fil. I'm doing this for you and Sweets." Swallowing against the emotion lodged in her throat, Betty began piling food on her plate. Ignoring Fangs and Sweet Pea's attempts at getting her to laugh, she grabbed two beers from the ice buckets. Eyebrows raising on the foreheads of her friends.

"What will the Aunties think Sweet Pea?" With a fist on his hip, and pursed lips, Fangs mocked astonishment.

"Fuck 'em." Betty let the words fall freely from her mouth, not bothering to feel ashamed for her act of defiance.

"That's my girl." Hot breath flowed over Betty's ear, sensing a shiver of pleasure through her body. "I love that dirty mouth of yours Elizabeth Cooper."

Forgetting his plate on the table, Malachi pulled Betty's body into his. Holding tight to her hips, breathing her scent at the base of her skull. She imagined this was what her heaven would be like. Calloused fingers grasping her hips from behind, heated breath over the shell of her ear. She longed for this type of attention from Malachi almost every waking moment. It had become something of a past time, daydreaming about this man and all the ways he could get her eyes to flutter closed, or have her arching into his touch. She could think of nothing more enticing, more delicious than the pads of his fingers committing every curve of her body to memory. Then she opened her eyes. Remembering that she was in a gigantic dining room with roughly one hundred of Malachi's closest family members and she felt an icy chill replace the heat that rolled through her body.

"Later." Was all she could say, gripping the bottle necks with one hand and holding her plate with the other, she turned to look Malachi in the eye.

He couldn't help but run his hands over her curves, taking great pleasure in pissing off his Mom and Brother, Malachi was on cloud nine when Betty repeated his earlier statement about his family. Reluctantly, he let go of her hips, picked up a bottle opener and proceeded to pop the tops off of the beer bottles. When he picked up his plate, he followed Betty back to the table. Amusement played at his lips when Betty smiled brightly at their grumpy dinner guests. She simply sat, placed a bottle in front of him and took a sip of her own.

Alma rose from her seat, rolling her disgusted eyes at the group of adults left sitting at the table and went to the food table. The awkward silence was broken first by Benny.

"I believe congratulations are in order. Welcome to the family Betty. Who knew _you'd_ be the one to wear the pendant. Such an honor." Poisonous words slicing through the thick atmosphere between the two women, sitting stone faced across from each other at the table.

"It is an honor. I wear it with pride, I'm _blessed._ " Betty's smile never reached her loathsome green eyes.

"How does your own family feel about all of this? Surely your birthday hasn't passed yet." Choosing her words carefully, Benny simply raised an eyebrow in questioning.

"My birthday is of no concern to you. As far as my family goes, they love Malachi. Some of my family is actually here, at this table. I'm sure they love Malachi too. Don't you boys?" Taking a long pull from the sweating bottle, Betty wagged a perfectly filled in brow at her new mother in law.

"Mmm. Needless to say, you must be nearly patched. We heard about the brawl at the Whyte Wyrm. Filemon told us all about it. Quite the knock down, drag out ringside fight. Too bad we missed it." Fil laughed to himself as his mother wrinkled her nose at Betty.

"It is too bad you missed it. You seem to miss a lot." Narrowing her eyes, Betty lifted her fork in the air. "Salud." She said with a smile, stabbing into the mound of turkey and mashed potato drenched in gravy.

A large hand squeezed Betty's thigh under the table, eliciting a shiver that wound its way through each column of her spinal cord. It was the type of touch she knew Malachi would give her as reward for her catty tone with his bitch of a mother.

"Damn Benny, looks like there's a new queen in town now." A loud cackling laugh came from the thin figure next to Benny. Kittie let her head fall back with each bray she let loose. Sweet Pea turned to look at Betty, his eyes wide in mortification. Betty gave him a reassuring glance, they would make it through this together.

"A new queen? Get fucked Kittie." Fil was not shy about his feelings.

"Excuse you Filemon? Jealous much over there, you're as green as that snake on your back maricon! You get fucked pendejo." Throwing her glass of water in Fil's face, Kittie stood from her seat. Her boney little arms snaking into the sleeves of her cardigan. "It was nice to meet you Betty. I love you Sweets. I just can't be here." Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting the one she'd managed to tug from the pack before leaving through the front door.

"Fuckin' crank whore! Stupid goddamn bitch, Im fuckin' soaked now." Fil had stood up abruptly, ice falling to the floor from his crotch. The whole room turned to watch the anticipated meltdown.

"Why don't you keep it down. Maybe choose your words more wisely." Sweet Pea said after swallowing a mouth full of food.

"Shut the hell up, son of crank whore! No one wants you here anyway. You or the Ghoulie tramp you obviously pass around." Fil flung a piece of ice at Sweet Pea's face. It hit him on the cheek, and Sweet Pea let the ice slide down his frock coat, watching it inch by inch.

What happened next was a long time coming, a fact Betty had no idea of. Sweet Pea laughed, quite loudly in fact, picking the ice up from his lap. Then in one fell swoop, Sweet Pea stood on his chair, using it to catapult himself over the table. Effectively head butting Fil in the chest, bringing the older boy breathless, to the floor.

There was yelps of pain, and a crash as the two rolled into Benny's chair and she came tumbling down onto the floor with them. Betty continued to eat silently, as if nothing was happening, like there were no fighting Serpent's on the floor. Benny scrambled away on her hands and knees to get away from the brutal punching match she had momentarily been a part of. Even Fangs and Malachi had jumped to their feet to pull the boys apart, even to help Benny up to her feet.

Taking one last bite from her dish, Betty smiled at a bleeding and disheveled Benny, then drained her beer bottle and rose from the table. She tapped Sweet Pea on the shoulder, He looked sideways at her, narrowly missing a punch to the skull. Turning his full attention back to the task at hand, Sweet Pea punched his cousin one last time and jumped to his feet.

A crying Andrea flung herself over her nearly unconscious boyfriend, small sniffles being muffled as she tucked her face into the crook of Fil's neck. Malachi just watched speechless as Betty hugged his Grandma, took her purse and leather from the hall closet and left out of the front door, not a single word spoken. Sweet Pea and Fangs wordlessly followed her and finally, Malachi's brain caught up to him. Absently he hugged Alma, who was quite smug as she sat down at the forgotten table with her plate of food. Malachi pulled the keys from his pocket and walked out to meet his cousin, friend and Lady. This would be a Thanksgiving to remember, one they'd talk about for years to come. Spotting Betty already sitting in the Cutlass, he shook his head, taking not of the fact that he had locked the doors before they went inside the house. Opening the car door, he slid inside and slammed it closed.

"Who the hell _are_ you?" He asked Betty, who was sitting cool as a cucumber in the passenger seat. Turning her head to look at him, she blinked once.

"You said fuck 'em." And she smiled.


	12. Grand Theft Greendale

**GRAND THEFT GREENDALE**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale Universe.**

… **~*~...**

"Damn it! I almost sliced my hand." Betty was doing her best to break into Baxter high school, the flashlight wavered again, causing her to look up at her accomplice.

"Sorry, it's freezin' balls out here, I'll be a better criminal and try to stop shivering, can't promise anything though." Rubbing over his chilled arms again, Sweet Pea grasped the flashlight a little tighter. It didn't help that he was the lookout too. It was just the two of them in the dark at the high school, on a Saturday no less.

"It's okay, just try to keep it on the door knob." Moving the tools around in the lock, Betty took a deep breath, silently praying for the lock to budge. She'd never had the opportunity to crack such a dense lock; only ever breaking into cars and houses on the occasions she used her skill, if at all.

There was a subtle click and Betty looked to Sweet Pea, relief on her face. He smiled and reached for the door knob, it turned and the door opened.

"I hope the girl I marry is even half as badass as you Deville. Damn!" Sweet Pea whispered loudly as he grabbed up Betty's tool bag, taking her hand in his and dragging her through the doorway.

"You almost took my arm out of the socket. Slow down Sweets, I'm losing my grip." Trying desperately to keep her grip on the backpack she carried, Sweet Pea rolled his eyes and slowed down slightly.

"You short chicks, so demanding. Is this pace better my Queen?" His hand didn't loosened on hers, keeping a tight hold of her, still guiding her through the half lit hallways.

The walls and lockers were dark despite the chipper and cheerful cheerleaders she'd met at the games. This school almost creeped Betty out, to the point that she thought she seen something out of the corner of her eye. Dismissing it, she let Sweet Pea turn her around a darker corridor.

"Jeez, you think they could afford a new coat of paint, maybe a light bulb. This place is worse than Southside was." Sweet Pea held onto Betty's hand tighter now, the sixth sense he had was screaming at him to run in the opposite direction, but it wasn't just Betty's patch on the line, he had volunteered to do this job with her, keep her safe. It was imperative.

"I have a bad feeling about this Sweets." Her fingers dug into the top of Sweet Pea's hand, she took a quick look behind her, narrowly missing the tall figure skirting along the line of lockers they themselves had just been following. "Oh my God, Sweet Pea, do you see that too?" She dug around in her bag for the bb gun she snagged from her Dad's box in the garage. She thought it might come in handy for this particular mission. She didn't know what to expect.

"Yeah, I see it too. Come on, hurry up. This place is gives me the fuckin' creeps." His long legs took wide strides toward their destination, leaving Betty no choice but to break into a sprint to keep up.

"Who else knows we're here?" She was hushed, doing her best to keep her voice down.

"The entire Whyte Wyrm, the Ghoulies obviously, Mal is keeping eyes and ears out for cops and shit. That's it, unless we have some guests we weren't counting on. I'm going with a ghost. Just keep moving Betts we're almost there." He wasn't laughing, he wasn't even trying to look behind them anymore.

"A ghost, Sweet Pea? Really?" Incredulously, Betty gaped at Sweet Pea while she let him drag her forward.

"Yeah, well you Abuela and all her beliefs. People talk, haven't you heard about the Witch Trials that happened here? Bad juju Deville, the whole damn town is haunted in way or another." Sweet Pea had effectively shut Betty uo for now.

There was a set of doors at the end of the hallway, the light was a little better there and Sweet Pea made it a point to shove Betty in front of him so he could block her from whatever, whoever, was trailing them. He didn't always take note of what his Abuela told him as he was growing up, but he remembered enough to know that Greendale was full of the macabre and sinister things that went bump in the night. He seen the figure looming near the edge of the darkness, flattening itself against the locker doors. Silently praying that it wasn't some terrible thing Abuela told him about, he blocked Betty in.

Betty seen it too and she wasn't buying ghosts for a single minute. She took the safety off the bb gun in her fist, then she aimed it toward the dark figure, not saying a single word, she pulled the trigger; once twice, three times. A metal ball grazed the locker doors in front of the shadow, then one met with the darkness and it was silent. She pulled the trigger several more times, moving out from behind Sweet Pea's protective stance and moving toward the figure with a fierce gleam in her eyes.

"OUCH! THAT HURTS BETTY! STOP IT!" A familiar voice came from the darkness.

"Archie? What the hell are you doing?" Betty put her hand down, shoving the bb gun back into her bag.

"I was keeping an eye out, you weren't supposed to see me, this lighting is straight out of a horror movie. People actually go to school here?" Coming to the light, Archie rubbed at his torso, knowing full well that he'd have bruises and welts later.

"I think I almost pissed myself Red. Good job, who else is lurking in the darkness? You know what, nevermind. Let's go." Sweet Pea still felt on edge, he knew it wasn't Archie making him feel the heebie jeebies, something strange was going on in Greendale and he didn't want to stick around to find out what it was.

Pushing through the double doors, the trio found themselves in another dim lit hallway, this time there was more hope, because Sweet Pea took hold of Betty's hand and smiled at her.

"Get ready Deville! We're almost there." Tugging her down the hall, he turned another corner, left this time, they seen a huge display case.

"Oh no, what is this?" She felt like it was a trap. Like she had been played.

"Your job is to get in the case, without breaking the glass, find a set of keys and we'll go from there." Leaning his body against the brown painted wall next to the case, Sweet Pea smiled at her, tugging the everpresent pack of smokes from his pocket.

"Piece of cake." And it was. She was able to pick the lock so quickly that Sweet Pea felt a swell of admiration for the girl.

"Keys Deville." He said with a puff of smoke floating out of his smug mouth.

"Please hurry, I have a bad feeling about this place." Archie stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, desperate to defuse the nervous energy that surged through his body. He had already been patched, ended up stealing a junk heap of a car from the crusher north of Greendale. It was no easy feat, seeing as he had to work with Betty for endless hours learning how hotwire cars. It was well worth the study sessions, he got his patch and his snake bite all in one fell swoop.

"Doin' my best Arch, not like I was given a tutorial on how to find keys in a display case in the dark." She shot him an irritated look from the corner of her eye.

"Archie isn't a pain in the ass. He got lucky with his task. 'Sides, you have more to prove than Red. You're a Ghoulie's Old Lady, can't be too careful with you Deville." Finishing his cigarette, Sweet brought the lit end to the bottom of his boot, stubbing it out and tucking it into his jacket pocket.

"Right. I totally forgot how dangerous _I_ am. Ha! Got 'em! Now what, what are the keys for?" She almost jumped up and down, the boys could see the excitement, and laughed a little at her eagerness.

"The keys go to FP, for something in the trunk. Not our business, focus. Now we go to the auto shop. Just so you know, you're a testy tough as nails type of chick Deville. Nobody wants your wrath, this way." Leading them toward the auto shop, Sweet Pea ignored Betty's questioning. Bringing his finger up to his mouth, he hushed her.

"You go in, nab the cage and get the hell out. You still game Coop Deville?" Waiting expectantly, Sweet Pea backed away from Betty and Archie silently and slowly. His boots surprisingly quiet on the aged tile flooring.

"You know I'm game Pea, I wouldn't have popped the locks if I wasn't. Let's do this before the Greendale Police show up and we all get thrown behind bars for a B and E." Pulling the straps of the bag further up her shoulder, Betty made slow calculated steps toward Sweet Pea.

There was a creak of leather behind her, she looked at where Archie was standing, but he was gone. Turning around in a slow circle, she tried to find his hulking shadow down the hallway, but he wasn't there. Making the full 360 degree circle, Betty expected Sweet Pea to still be facing her in the dim lit hallway, but she was now fully alone. Making out the swing of a door, she made her way quickly to it before it shut.

Pushing it all the way open, betty spied the old racing car in the auto shop bay closest to herself. Surveying the teaching space, she made note of the bay door and the padlock it donned over the chain she would need pull on to open the door. First things first, open the lock. She didn't see Sweets anywhere, didn't hear a leather or the familiar sound of the change clanking in his pocket.

So she put tools to the keyhole, praying to God she could get out of here before something tipped off the authorities that she was in the school. Making quick work of the padlock, she tossed it to the ground, grimacing at the loud clatter beside her on the concrete floor. No time to care.

Pulling the thick industrial size chain links from the peg they were encircling, she began to pull the chain down. The squeaking was louder than the damn lock she sent sliding over the ground. This would surely alert a sleepy neighbor of foul play. She pulled as hard as she could, until the bay door was rolled up tight over the gaping hole in the cinder block wall. Placing the link back over the long metal peg, Betty grabbed the bag shed dropped to pop the lock and ran to the jalopy, yanking open the rusty door when she came to stand in front of it.

Tossing the bag onto the center console she pulled the appropriate items out, wire cutters and such, and tore the floor panel off of the underside of the dashboard. Hanging halfway out of the car, when she got the thing roaring, Betty had just enough time to settle into the driver's seat. Looking around the room one last time, she didn't see Archie or Sweet Pea, so she put the transmission into gear and rolled out of the bay door.

She pulled out onto the driveway that led her back around the school to the front of the menacing building. There, on the sidewalk stood Sweet Pea and Archie, she stopped with a squeal of the tires and flung the passenger door open for them. Archie got in the back seat, then Sweet Pea got in the front. Betty didn't wait for them to close the door before she was leaving Baxter High School in a hail of exhaust behind them.

"Jesus Betty, slow down." Archie was holding for dear life in the backseat.

"No way. I don't like it here. I want the hell out of Greendale. How did you and Jug manage to be here all the time? It's weird." Betty kept looking in her rearview mirror. Her stomach dropping as she seen a car pull out from the trees she'd just passed.

Laying her foot fully on the gas pedal, Betty made sure she was gaining on the road to Riverdale. One she'd never thought she'd be so happy to be on.

"Woooo!" Sweet Pea was a dycker for anything adrenaline, so he was gobbling this up like it was the air he breathed.

"I know this is a stupid question, but who the hell is that?" Uncomfortably Betty pointed to her mirror, the boys heads snapping back to look out of the window.

"Don't worry about it Deville. Just floor it. We're losing time."

"It would be nice to know who's gaining on us, seeing as we just committed a crime. I'll be tried as an adult Pea. I turn eighteen next week." Slamming her palm on the sticky steering wheel, Betty huffed her frustration.

"I can't really say Betts, we didn't have a cage posted in the woods. It was just me and Red." Looking to the boy in the backseat, Sweet Pea let a smile slip, then looked down to his lap.

The headlights behind them illuminated the cracked and peeling interior of the car Betty was pushing to its limits. She shifted uneasily in her seat, the cracked leather scraping over the denim that shielded her skin from imminent marring. An irrational fear settled into the pit of Betty's stomach, sending jolts of adrenaline through her tense limbs.

"Floor it Betts!" Archie grabbed onto the top of the seat in front of him, urging Betty to push the gas pedal all the way to the floor boards. She did it, no thinking, just acting; gaining several feet of road in their journey back to Riverdale.

"You're crazy as hell Deville!" A wide grin graced Sweet Pea's face, his deep hearty laugh filling the void between shifting gears and the engine roaring. Betty felt incredibly uncomfortable now, looking into the rearview mirror. The lights behind her began to veer to the opposite side of the road, easily gaining on them, despite her every effort to evade the vehicle. It came up alongside them. Instantly feeling foolish, Betty let herself relax a little, biting her bottom lip as she smiled. Shaking her head in disbelief, she knew the engine quite intimately. She would recognize it anywhere, even amongst others similar to it. She looked over for a moment, at the now lit up interior. Dark eyes meeting light, Betty let loose a breath, shaking her head and laughing, for the first time since she swiped the keys from the display case.

"Hey there beautiful." He yelled over their warring engines, giving Betty the most gorgeous smile in the process. It reminded her of the race between him and Jughead. Malachai was now racing her.

"Hey baby." She did her best not to blush, not that he could see it anyway. The boys were hooting and hollering beside her. Slamming fists into door panels and the rickety dashboard piece. She laughed out loud now, letting the exhilaration of the speed and the wind whip through her hair. This was fun, she had realized, she had some of the most incredible fun sneaking around that stupid school, Archie scaring her to death and finally retrieving the car as per FP's orders.

Whizzing past the Welcome To Riverdale sign, Malachai began to slow the red Suburban. Betty took a cue from him, doing the same.

"I'll see you at the Wyrm. Have to check in at The House of the Dead. Good luck! I love you beautiful." Waiting for Betty to respond, he smiled at her again.

"I love you too Chai!" Then he slowed way down, returning to his place behind her and turning on a street that took him to the Ghoulie clubhouse.

"You guys all knew. How do you do these things?" She shook her head, regaining her thought process again.

"You know how we do Deville. It's a gift." Leaning over the bag between them, Sweet Pea kissed her cheek real quick. "This has been a fun night, wouldn't ya say Red?"

"One helluva night Sweets! Almost as badass as my night was." Archie clapped a hand on Sweet Pea's shoulder.

"Shots after the laws! Ten says Jones offers first." Sweet Pea was already holding out a large hand to Archie.

"No deal man. Jug will definitely offer her a drink first." Archie wore a smug little smirk over his lips, knowing full well that Jughead still had it bad for their little blonde car thief.

"Damn it! Alright. Five says Betty leaves with Rico Suave as soon as he shows up." The widest grin she'd ever seen on Sweet Pea's face flashed in her direction. Her fist sprung out, catching him in the shoulder. "Ouch. Be nice."

"Ha! No way, that's too easy. Still no deal." Archie sat back, watching the street lamps pass by quickly.

"So damn predictable, maybe next time." Sweet Pea turned around in time to see the crowd gathering out front of the Whyte Wyrm. Clapping had already begun when they came to a stop in the parking lot. FP holding tight to Alice at the forefront of the crowd.

Putting the car in park, Betty let her head roll back on the cracked seat back, letting it all wash over her. The last couple of months, tonight, Malachai. It was incredible, how she felt. Then she exited the car.

…~*~...

Betty stood in the midst of the other Serpents, face to face with FP, she had already yelled out the laws, save for one. Her Mom was holding her hand tightly, a hint of tears in her eyes as she watched.

"What is the last law Deville?" FP was smug, standing with not a doubt in his mind about what the unsuspecting young girl was capable of.

"IN UNITY THERE IS STRENGTH!" Letting the words flow freely over her lips, Betty smiled a little, knowing full well she had done it. She had managed to get through this task and make her family proud.

"That's my girl" The crowd erupted in excitement. Whoops and howls and claps and clanks of glass on wood became the ever increasing tone in the Whyte Wyrm.

Alice hugged Betty tightly, kissing her forehead and letting her loose to the hugs of the others.

"Be ready tomorrow, we carve at noon. Coop Deville." FP hugged her tight, the way Father would when he's genuinely proud of you, nothing she'd ever experienced from her Dad. It brought a tear to her eye, sucking in a deep breath to keep it from rolling past her water line.

When FP released her, her lip was trembling, proof of her soft interior. A roughened thumb came up to the wetness that failed to stay in its place; rolling quickly to drip onto the lapel of her leather jacket. Betty didn't hold it back now, she let the tears of grateful appreciation for her President, her Father figure anew, fall freely. The man was hard. Hard from the depths of his soul to the tips of the scruff covering his chin. FP let one tear be seen by his new crew member, a lone bit of moisture that he'd die before letting anyone but his son and his woman see. Bringing her back into the enclosure of his arms, he whispered into her ear. Pearls of softened edges that he meant only for her. Gratitude for the love she leaked all over them, daring them to be better men. With a quick kiss to the top of her cheek bone, he pulled Alice into the arms that just folded around her own daughter. The warmth there inviting and comforting familiarity. They pushed past the thwarts of leather clad minors drinking Bud Light and Heineken.

"Betts, Coop Deville. The awe inspiring Wonder Woman." the warm breath that spread over the shell of her ear, ghosting softly and slowly cooling over the smooth planes of her face, Betty knew exactly who was behind her. The whole reason she even stood in this place, on this spot at this very moment. Jughead Jones, in all of his moody brooding glory, a half smile akin to his Father's as she whirled around to greet him face to face.

"Jughead." A small smile playing the corners of her lips, she shifted her weight to one leg, a shapely hip jutting out.

He looked, he'd always look. Couldn't help it if he tried. He'd always be in love with Betty Cooper, always find her alluring, no matter what hard ass Ghoulie or fellow Serpent tried to push her from the forefront of his mind, she'd always be the one that he wanted. Licking his lips, top teeth sinking deliciously into the pouty flesh of his bottom lip, he closed his eyes. He should have known they were bound to repeat their parent's mistakes, should have seen it coming from a mile away. Shaking his head of the fantasies that would never be, he cleared his throat, gaining control over his impure thoughts.

"Congratulations are in order. I'm glad to call you a comrade. Beer?" A large palm came up between them, motioning toward the bar and a grinning Toni Topaz.

"Sure, but can we make it a shot? Tequila if possible." Her eyebrow rose over her smooth forehead, just the one. Jughead laughed at her ballsy request, but he obliged nonetheless.

"Anything you want Deville. You know, I may never get used to calling you that." Leaning his leather covered elbows onto the sticky bar top, Jughead smiled brightly at Betty, nudging her with his fingers splayed under his bicep.

"You don't have to call me Deville." Rolling her emerald orbs at the boy beside her, Betty laughed a little. It was getting easier. The motions weren't as scripted, she wasn't guarding herself from the harsh remarks or the feelings of betrayal. They were better now, a little.

Toni plopped two shot glasses down on the bar, pouring golden liquid into both, a smile plastered to her face when she placed a third and a fourth and fifth, and finally a sixth glass out, filling them as well.

"To Betty. The newest in our ranks. Our sister, Coop Deville!" Sweet Pea yelled boisterously over the crowd and their wailing. Tapping their glasses on the bar top after clicking them together for a "cheers". Archie, Fangs and Toni all winked at Betty, then slammed the drinks back.

"You're free to go Betts. Party where you want to." Jughead turned around, jutting his head toward the bar door.

There he stood, studded, skulled and dangerous looking. His eyes raking her over body with obvious devious intent. His ringed fingers folded over the skull that capped his walking stick, he looked so delicious, and so out of place here in the Whyte Wyrm. Lifting a hand, Malachai curled a finger in the air, beckoning her forward. She didn't even think, she simply took the steps forward, offering him a wide smile.

Flinging herself into his rock solid body, Betty didn't care what she looked like. She hadn't seen the man in a week. He'd been busy in the city, and she'd been busy here with cars and stealing and drinking copious amounts of alcohol with Sweet Pea and Archie and Fangs. She'd spoken with him, sent him pictures of the group and herself in the Whyte Wyrm getting ready for her last task.

That sweet and spicy smoky scent of his washed over her, she greedily breathed it in, her mouth watering with need. The tip of her nose grazed over his exposed throat, trailing down over his collar bone. His eyes had closed at their first touches, but now they were open, nothing but pupil and eager to drink in all that was _his_ Betty Cooper.

"How 'bout we do another round of shots. The good stuff." He breathed in her ear.

"Here?" Her eyebrows shot up on her forehead, the surprise evident in her tone.

"Yeah beautiful. It's your party, your club. I can't keep you to myself all of the time. No matter how much I want to." Kissing her lightly on the apple of her cheek, Betty let her eyes flutter closed.

"Okay, but I don't know if they have the good stuff. You're a bit of a snob when it comes to liquor." She took his hand, dragging him forward away from the door, and toward the many wide eyed faces.

"I sent over something special for tonight. A few things actually. Toni's been hangin' around with Batso a little bit." Running a hot palm over her hip, Malachai took note of the way Jughead visibly tensed at the motion. It pleased Malachai more than it pissed him off. The boring little Serpent Prince was jealous.

"Toni, I heard there's something special behind that bar tonight." Betty leaned over the edge, searching the shelves beneath her.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't be looking there. These drunks would have that stuff gone in a heartbeat. Red, a hand?" Motioning to the back room with her head, Archie rose from his barstool to meet her in back.

"Sending over some imported brew primo?" With a man hug between them Sweet Pea and Malachai smiled knowingly at each other.

"Somethin' like that. Hey. Thanks for keeping me posted. Those pigs in Greendale were up mine and Ratso's asses for hours." Taking out a cigarette from his pack, he offered one to each of the boys. They all snagged one and pulled out their lighters. Betty shook her head.

"Betty was quick though, a lot quicker than most. Just glad we got the shipment back before Greendale PD could distribute. What a nightmare that would have been." Inhaling deep, letting the sweet smoke fill his lungs, Fangs looked back at Malachai then to Betty. "Jingle Jangle. Been runnin' from here to NYC to snatch any new batches."

"Seems that Penny had an operation goin' out of a fancy high class hotel in the city. A certain ritzy gal pal of ours gave us a heads up. Her and Daddy dearest had a bit of a falling out." Jughead let the smoke pour from his full lips as he watched Betty's reaction.

"How much are we talking?" Concern marred Betty's features, a her back pushed into the bar, she felt the impending doom.

"Red and I managed to get four cases with the car he hotwired in the junkyard. There was twice that in the shit heap you stole. They had the door panels lined with it. That's why there were no windows." Sweet Pea had already pulled out his own pack, lighting the fresh smoke with the one he'd taken from his cousin.

"Wow." Was all Betty could say. She felt like her new job with the Serpents was being explained quite clearly, despite the silence among them.

"Veronica asked about the dance Betts." Jughead stubbed the butt out in the overfilled ashtray next to her, the last bit of his smoke rolling over her shoulders, filling her nostrils with its sweetness.

"What?!" Standing up taller now, Betty was a bit louder than she thought she was; gaining the attention of a few other Serpents.

"She asked my Dad and your Mom while you were gone. She's dead set on it. Not sure when she's going to do it though." Leaning against the bar next to Betty, Jughead let his mind wander to the fractured existence he now led due to his reaction over Betty prospecting. Wondering if it would bring Archie and Veronica closer or tear them apart. Either way, it looked like they were about to gain another member in their ranks.

"She'd be valuable as a Serpent. Her aptitude for business is incredible too. She could get intel on Lodge industries. Very valuable." Thinking about how well she and Veronica worked together, it wasn't a half bad move on V's part. Then there wouldn't be such a rift between them. They could be on the same page again.

"Here we go pals!" Toni interrupted the silence with a tray of shot glasses.

"Oh thank God. It was getting too serious in here. Bunch of fuckin' Grandma's I swear." Sweet Pea took a glass, standing tall in front of Jughead.

"Shut up Sweets. I'm glad she felt comfortable enough to even ask. Goodness knows I sure didn't." It had come out before she had an opportunity to even think about she'd said. Betty ignored the imploring stares, taking a shot glass from the tray.

"Ballsy much?" Toni caught Betty's eye. "You did ask me Deville, and I totally approved." Winking at her friend, Toni lifted her drink in the air.

"To Betty, the greatest goddamn car thief this side of Shankshaw Penitentiary." Fangs bellowed, clinked the other glasses then threw back is head

When the golden liquid hit Betty's tongue, she moaned, audibly. Malachai slipped a hand under the edge of her leather; the tips of his fingers smoothing over her spine. Leaning into his warmth, Betty savored her shot, letting it warm her tongue then her esophagus and finally her tummy. It was sinful the way the honey colored liquid affected her. Malachai spoiled her beyond belief, and she was grateful.

"That's my girl. I knew you'd like that one. None of that Cuervo shit they keep in stock for Coop Deville. This girl needs real tequila." Malachai took possession of her lips, his tongue plunging past them in his eagerness to taste the liquor on her tongue. He couldn't care less that Jughead was tensing beside her, or that his cousin was whooping and hollering in his ear. He was here for Betty and Betty alone. He'd kiss his Lady anywhere and anyhow he felt like. Releasing her from his sinful mouth, he gave one final little peck to her lips and stood up straight.

"Well now. I'm a little warm and it's time for my break. Jug, escort me to my car?" Toni tugged at her jacket sleeves, pulling Jughead from his obvious staring.

"Hmm, yeah. Okay." He was silent as he stood straight, meeting Toni at the door, before pushing it open for her.

"Okay, stop molesting the new recruit. I seen there was other bottles back there. Can I snag one for the three of us?" Fangs asked Malachai, hope written all over his face.

"Sure. Just don't let Toni see you with them. She might castrate you." Malachai did the usual handshakes with the three stooges, returning his attention back to Betty when they took off.

"I think you're showing off a little." Licking her lips, Betty ran her hands over Malachai's exposed chest.

"I haven't even started showin' off beautiful." His index finger tipped her chin up, exposing her throat to him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, almost inaudible.

"This is showing off." Kissing the skin under jaw bone elicited goosebumps over Betty's flesh. Her heart hammering violently in her chest. "This is also showing off." His tongue was hot and flat against the base of her throat, where the top of her collarbone sat. One long swipe, from her clavicle up to her earlobe had her a squirming mueling mess.

"We can go now." She grabbed for her bag behind the bar, clumsily knocking around bottles and napkins until she found the studded leather.

"You sure? I don't wanna take you from your party." He was teasing her, and naughty to say the least and she seen it shimmering brightly in his deep chocolate brown eyes.

"No, let's go home." With the strap of her bag slung over her shoulder, she made her way for the door.

"As you wish my Queen." It was the second time that night she'd heard such a thing. It was much better coming from Malachai, it meant something different, and she liked it.

"FP, Mom. We're out of here. Hey, catch." Flinging the keys she'd found in Baxter High to FP, Betty settled in under Malachai's arm as he escorted her through the bar door.

"Brought the bike tonight, thought you could handle some wind in your hair." A single finger flipped a few strands over her shoulder. Malachai got seated on the bike, the large gas tank nestled between his muscled thighs.

"Take me home baby." She said, wrapping her arms around his torso, pushing herself as close to him as possible.

"Hang on." He yelled as the bike roared to life.

…~*~...

 _ **A/N:**_ _Oh dear Lord. I was desperate to bring this full circle. Desperate to make sense of what I'm trying to accomplish here. We are far from over. Far from the destination at which we depart from Malachai and his dangerous sexy ways._

 _(Might I add, wth is going on in Riverdale season 3?)_

 _Anyway. The more research I do, the larger the plot gets, the longer I take to write. I do apologize for this. Thank you for your comments and sweetness and love of the bad boumy Rico Suave Malachai, the Ghoulie King. Until next time. ~S.C._


	13. Hotel Greendale

**Hotel Greendale**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

… **~*~...**

The longest week in the history of Betty's life had just gone by, painstakingly, agonizingly slow. It inched the way a begrudging mule does on it's way back into a barn. Somehow, the Serpent's had found themselves uncovering a backroom deal between Penny Peabody, Tall Boy and Hiram Lodge. Veronica had let loose every minute detail of her findings to both FP and Malachai. With Penny and Tall Boy conveniently out of the way and Malachai long since out of the drug game, Hiram had taken over the lucrative Jingle Jangle business. Without so much as a blink of an eye, Veronica pledged her allegiance to the Serpents.

Cheryl had become a regular at the Whyte Wyrm, taking up almost all of Toni's free time and taking interest the Serpents as well. Then there was the topic of Betty's birthday. At first, the MC leaders had decided a mixer or sorts at The House of the Dead would be appropriate, but with Veronica wanting to dance as soon as possible, the shindig was moved to the Whyte Wyrm. Fil threw an absolute fit, breaking several sets of glasses and ending up leaving in the middle of FP's speech about Southside solidarity. Fil was becoming a problem, a very big and angry problem.

It had started when Malachai brought Betty to the Wyrm for a meeting he had with FP, Fil thought it necessary to comment on his brother's choice of motorcycle. What started as a jab at his brother, turned into a screaming match between the two that would end in Fil throwing boxes of unopened beer glasses at his younger brother. FP had to stress the fact that Malachai was the Ghoulie president, it was time to stop being disrespectful despite family issues. Filthy Fil hadn't been back since.

So here Betty was, in her frilly childhood room, trying on outfits with Veronica Lodge. They were dancing to various songs, trying to figure out what would be an appropriate pairing between clothes and song and dance. The only people who knew what was coming was Veronica, Betty and Malachai. The Ghoulie leader dropped his girl and her best friend off at the Cooper house after gathering them from school. He had business to attend to in Greendale, yet again. Betty knew she was serving partially as a distraction for Veronica while Archie went with Malachai.

"How did you do this, you were basically alone. Only Toni knew, and you still danced. I think I might be sick." Veronica flung herself backwards on the bed.

"It doesn't have to be as dramatic as mine was. I kind of just commandeered your stage time. It was a split decision, I almost didn't do it." Rummaging through the box of lacy panties and bras, Betty found a set that seemed to be appropriate. "Hey. This is perfect. You should wear this set."

"Really? It isn't too, basic?" With a furrowed brow, Veronica lifted the navy blue and silver bra, it set off her caramel skin tone.

"I'd watch you dance in a paper bag, but that's gonna catch everyone's attention V." A voice came from the doorway. The girls turned simultaneously.

"Toni! I forgot what time you said you were coming over." Betty flung her arms around the shorter girls shoulders, giving her a squeeze.

"I'm a little late actually, I got caught up." Her bright eyes flickered toward the open door. Cheryl sauntered in, decked in red from head to toe.

"Hey there cousin." Giving a kiss to each of Betty's cheeks, Cheryl reached for Veronica next.

"She caught me at the Wyrm, helped me clean up, we got to talking." Toni took the purse strap from around her torso, setting the bag on the floor by Betty's vanity.

"I was thinking, maybe we could take this dance in another direction. It doesn't have to be a dirty old man's fantasy does it?" A blood red nail came to rest over the contrasting lace in Betty's hand.

"How would it not be a dirty old man's fantasy?" Veronica was confused to say the least.

"We could do it together. Both of our significant others are patched. We could make it more of a Vixens try out if you know what I mean." Cheryl's smile was devious. She had it all thought out.

"You mean, you and I dance together?" Thinking about it for a moment, Veronica shook her head in agreement. "That could work. It'd be a lot less nerve wracking. What song?"

"Anything but Gary Jules okay? I could barely make it through the last time." Rolling Her eyes and crossing her arms, Toni looked to Veronica and then to Betty.

"I have an idea, but I think I need to steal Veronica. Can we use the basement?" Cheryl took Veronica's hand in her own, one perfect ginger eyebrow raising on her expectant forehead.

…~*~...

Malachai had been sitting in this hotel lobby for what felt like an eternity, he'd text Betty several times to tell her he was still waiting. It was an unfortunate little hotel, stuck in the pastels and patterns of nineteen ninety-one, it smelled like it hadn't been cleaned in about as long.

There was a crotchety old woman knitting at the front desk, she lifted her gaze from her never-ending rows to his unamused face, only to roll her eyes in disgust and continue working. It wasn't like Malachai had asked for this meeting. He was told to be here, the cool tone on the other end of the line reminded him of someone, but he couldn't quite put his finger on who. So he sat, silent and waiting. Archie kept his hoodie on, seated discreetly on the opposite side of the bar from Ratso and Batso, who were chatting up a couple of local Greendale cougars. It was almost too much to watch Batso try to be interested in anything but the one woman's purse.

Taking another look at his phone, Malachai, let his attention be drawn to the door to the lobby opening, a tall bulky man walking through the musty space between them. Watching the man, he tried to place the face, but it was difficult, never having met the man before. Then it hit him, the pictures that had since been removed from over the hearth in Alice's living room. The hundred or so photos that were flung into the shoebox in the hallway across from the guest bathroom. The owner of the tools that helped pop locks and cut bolts, so Betty could pull her weight in the club she belonged to now.

Hal Cooper stood directly in front of the knitting woman, demanding a new ice bucket, a blanket and some towels. He looked worse for ware, hair shaggy over her aging face. Nothing like the clean cut, well preserved visage of the countless photos Betty had shown him. This man was losing weight in the face, purplish bruising under his eyes indicating his lack of sleep. His wide frame was just that, a frame. He had to have lost nearly forty pounds, his trousers hung on his waist courtesy of the worn out belt that was clasped there. His coat was nearly threadbare, a sign the man had been on the streets for sometime.

Beginning to wonder about the circumstances of this particular human being entering this exact hotel lobby when Malachai was told to be here, it couldn't be a coincidence. Keeping his eyes on the phone in his hand, the Ghoulie never led on that he was watching the man. He simply waved for the bartender to pour another whiskey, which he did, then quickly went back to the side of the bar he was cleaning. Archie had done well to conceal his face, nursing a shot if whiskey, he took out his phone to send a text to Jughead and Sweet Pea.

"How do they expect me be warm in that damned bed with _one_ blanket? And they call that ice bucket clean. Pfft! Tried to shower this morning and the towels smell like mildew. Can you believe it?" Hal's eyes never fell on any one particular person seated in this bar room; if you could call it that. He simply sat and complained. "I'll have an old fashioned. No ice."

"You been here long?" The bartender asked, never looking up from his task.

"A few days. Say, you wouldn't happen to know where a guy could find a candy machine would ya? The ones outside are all out of _sweets_." It sounded forced. Like this was a rehearsed bit, the words flowed too freely out of Hal Cooper's mouth, and Malachai knew what "sweets" were slang for. He coined the phrase himself after all.

"I can have the cook send some sweets to your room after your drink if you'd like." Still no eye contact. The bartender was the worst salesman Malachai had ever seen, but he sipped his drink nonetheless.

"I sure would appreciate it. How much do I owe ya for the drink?" Pulling out a billfold, Malachai took note of the wear marks of where a fat stack used to reside, and how thin the wallet was now.

"I'll put it on your tab." Downing the drink, Hal Cooper set out a five dollar bill under his empty glass. "Room number six. Thank you much!" Then he was off the barstool. Damn near sprinting to the hallway he'd appeared from.

"Is there anything else you'll be needing Malachai?" The bartender looked up at Malachai now, letting his full face be seen. It wasn't a coincidence at all. He'd remembered this guy too. The young man with his dirty blonde hair and his hazel eyes, so much like FP in the face, it was scary. He was a Ghoulie out of Greendale. They were around the same age.

"Charles?" Malachai asked, almost in disbelief.

"Been awhile. Glad you could make it." The young man smiled, a familiar smirk, almost too familiar.

"What's it been? Almost two years? Are you working here?" Draining the glass of the golden liquid, Malachai thought of who Charles really looked like, it was almost a compulsive need.

"About two years, and not workin' here exactly. Just checkin' things out. You catch on to who that was?" Charles set the dirty glass in the stainless steel basin behind the bar.

"Hal Cooper." It was bothersome now, the niggling in his mind, he knew this guy most of his life, they came up in the Ghoulies together, but he looked so much like someone else, it bothered the hell out Malachai.

"I went knocking on his door once, in Riverdale. I was adopted you know." Filling the glass for Malachai again, Charles looked into his old friend's eyes, they were wide in knowing.

"Hal? He's not-" Swallowing thickly, Malachai tried to see the resemblance but he just couldn't. There was something he wasn't getting here.

"Wasn't looking for my Dad." Folding his arms over his chest, Charles waited for the pieces to fall into place in Malachai's head.

"Jesus, you're Alice's kid? That means, holy shit." Realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was right in thinking Charles' eyes were similar to FP's, but the smirk, that was all Alice.

"You snagged my sister, well, half sister." Shrugging like it was nothing, Charles looked over to the twins. The women they were chatting up had left already, so they sat almost silent. "You schmucks gonna come say hi or what?"

"We didn't know if we should interrupt. So you called then?" Ratso asked, sitting on the barstool next to Malachai. Archie slid down the dinghy bar with his glass, eyes wide, not saying anything.

"I did. Seems Mr. Cooper has taken a job, he's a mule. He's waiting for me to give him a package, Lodge Industries approached the Greendale Ghoulie President over a month ago. Magic took the deal. We were told to deliver, no questions asked. A lotta money flowing outta this establishment." Looking over the lobby again, Charles' looked from Ghoulie to Ghoulie to Ghoulie and finally to Archie. "Who are you?"

"Red. I'm friends with Betty Cooper, I live right next door." Archie's tone was hushed as he held out his hand.

"Cool. Serpent I presume?" Charles was cool and collected like he did this everyday.

"I am." Archie said, sipping from his glass.

"So, why call us now?" Batso tipped back his glass, ice clinking in the bottom.

"Magic wants you gone. He's lookin' to run you out of Riverdale, then take over the Southside. I heard about the Ghoulie Serpent truce. Thought I'd offer my information for a place in the Riverdale charter." Charles pulled a brown box from under the bar, placing it on the counter, a hand laid over the cardboard top.

"You're in, no problem. How are you gonna get past Magic?" Malachai was skeptical.

"Sheriff Keller and Sheriff Leonetti are en route to the clubhouse and this hotel as we speak. Wipe your glasses boys, it's about to pop off."

…*...

The girls were in the middle of figuring out a routine, total Vixen style, all Cheryl Bombshell, nothing at all like how Betty went into this. Toni had even got involved at one point, laying her hands over Cheryl's shapely hips, swivelling them around to the music. It was fun. Honest to goodness fun, Betty had missed this, missed her friends. Feeling the good vibes, she stood in the typical formation with the other girls, and ran the routine with them. Over and over until they each had their own flavor added to the mix. It was obvious that this was a group effort. It was something they could hold over the older Serpents.

"I think we should all do the dance, take the stage together." Veronica's eyes lit up with excitement, her hands clasped in front of her chest. She was desperate, not wanting to earn the same reaction from the stodgy old men that Betty did.

"I don't know V, I already did the dance, you have a better shot at this than I ever did." Betty wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling the familiar uncertainty inside of her, simmering in her veins.

"I did a dance too. I got about the same out of those guys that Betty did. It feels like opening old wounds." Settling into the same stance as Betty, Toni bit her bottom lip, meeting Cheryl's irritated stare.

"Oh give me break, okay? We aren't old Serpents. We are the new generation. All female. We make our own damn rules. First rule is, we don't let new girls get thrown to the wolves. We take care of our own right?" Cheryl, ever the fierce leader, said it all with conviction. Her words meant something, because this was the beginning of something new.

"Yeah, and no Serpent stands alone right?" Standing a little taller with her knowledge of Serpent Law, Veronica smiled at Toni and Betty.

"Smart ass." Betty said, a little relieved that Veronica was serious about this.

"We know the laws, and the ridiculous traditions that were meant to discourage the girls from joining. However, in unity there is strength." Cheryl softened her stance, stepping forward toward Toni. "I'm doing this for me, not for you or to make a point. I want to be a Serpent. You guys are my family."

"When you put it that way-" Taking Cheryl's face in her hands, Toni let the pads of her thumbs rub over Cheryl's perfect blushing cheeks. Bringing herself another step closer, Toni pulled Cheryl's face to her own; bright cherry red lips meeting deep dark burgundy. Cheryl let her fingers run smooth lines up Toni's back, long red fingernails scraping goosebumps in Toni's scalp.

"That's a yes?" Veronica waited patiently for an answer.

"Safe to say we're in V." Pulling Veronica in for a hug, Betty smiled to herself. This is how it should have been, not forced to make a point to a boy that didn't exactly understand why he had joined the Serpents either.

The song continued to play, and the four, determined and ready for anything, got back to work. It was late when they finally heard the sound of the front door opening, heavy boots clambering over the hardwoods above. They had lost track of time, hadn't checked for messages or even stopped for anything but water. Turning off the speaker and gathering their things to go back up the stairs, Betty heard familiar voices as she took hold of the door knob.

"How are we going to explain this to Betty and Alice? This is not how tonight was supposed to go. I have to be at the Wyrm in the morning and here I am lying to FP's face." Betty turned the knob as gently as she could, opening the door enough to see Archie gripping the lapels of his own jacket.

"It's not like I asked you to lie Red, no one asked you to keep information from him. We can't just go into the office at the Wyrm and tell FP and Alice we found their long lost son. If you have a better idea on how to get through this, please, be my guest." Malachai flung his hand into the air, the metal studs clinking against each other on his jacket.

Pushing through the wooden basement door way, Betty came to stand in front of her beau and her childhood friend. She was confused and ever so slightly upset. Trying to figure out if she had heard the two correctly, she shook her head, furrowing her brows.

"Betts, of course you were listening." Rubbing his forehead with two fingers and his thumb, Archie huffed.

"My Mom and FP have a son? Together?" Feeling the tell tale signs of impending emotion welling in her eyes, Betty sucked in a deep breath to keep the flood of tears from spilling over.

"I never made the connection, not until tonight." Taking Betty in his arms, his cool palm laying flat over her cheek. Holding her tight to his chest; Malachai had no idea where to begin with the things he knew.

"I think we should be going." Toni slipped the strap of her bag over her head, Veronica and Cheryl doing the same, joining Archie at the foyer door.

"You really need to start explaining." Her tone was damn near venomous, something he probably should have expected. Hell, he would have been reacting the same way if it was him. He'd never been on the receiving end of Betty's irritation or anger, he usually sat back while she verbally berated and put others in their place. It didn't feel very good for her merth to be targeted at him.

"Can we go upstairs and get more comfortable first? I can tell you while I'm changing out of these clothes?" Not trying to be funny, he put his up over the studs covering his chest. Betty pulled away, arms folded over her own chest, eyes narrowed in speculation.

"You better tell me every damn thing. I mean it, no funny business. No distracting me either. Full truth or you leave now, I mean it." And she did. There was no room for keeping secrets in their relationship, they both knew it.

"Hey, I've never kept anything from you before, I'm not about to do it now. Come on, let's go." Not trying to piss Betty off any more than she already was, Malachai made his way around her, walking determinedly through the kitchen and living room and up the stairs. Betty reluctantly followed.

"So, I grew up with this kid. He was in a group home for as long as I can remember. We joined the Ghoulies around the same time. We never really talked about our families or anything." Removing his jacket, he hung it up in Betty's closet. She sat on the edge of her bed, uneasy and not looking at him at all.

"What's his name?" She asked, gripping the duvet quite roughly.

"Charles, Charles Smith. The irony, I already know." His dark eyes met her imploring green ones when her head snapped up in his direction.

"That's my Granddad's name." Her voice was hushed, so very uncertain of herself.

"Yep." His lips popped with the word. Tugging his shirt up over his head, tossing it into the laundry hamper behind him. "I never put it all together."

"Neither one of them said anything." It was more of a statement for her own benefit, it had nothing to do with Malachai really.

"He looks like you and Jughead. The perfect mix of Mama Coop and FP, I never seen it before tonight." Sitting in the chair at Betty's vanity, Malachai untied his laces, kicking off his shoes and tucking them under the chair. Standing, he reached for his pants. Making quick work of his button and zipper, the jeans pooled at his socked feet.

"That almost makes me want to be sick." The thought of a person looking like her and Jughead both was unsettling, it made her shiver at the thought.

"That's not even the worst part beautiful." Tearing the socks off of his feet, he threw them and his jeans into the hamper, careful to take his cell and wallet out first.

"Oh God. There's more? What could possibly worse than sharing a brother with my _ex_ boyfriend?" A tear slid down her cheek, it broke Malachai's heart.

"It hurts to even think about saying this to you." The pad of his thumb ran over the wetness on her face. She closed her eyes at the feel of him on her skin.

"Just tell me. Please?" Begging now, she opened her eyes. Searching his face in the silence.

"We seen your Dad. He's a mule for the Lodge's. Charles has been giving packages for the Greendale Ghoulies. Seems Hiram gave the Pres over there an offer he couldn't refuse." Despite the shock about her Father, Betty eye's went wide with fear. She knew it was bad, worse than her Dad running drugs for the worst human being she'd encountered. She knew it meant things would change, how could they not? "Me."

"What? What does that mean?" She knew her voice was more high pitched than it should have been, her hands were trembling with fear.

"Hiram told Magic that if they can run me out of Southside, the Ghoulies are his and so is the Jingle Jangle empire in Riverdale." It felt weird to say it outloud. Thinking it was one thing, but saying it made it real

"Run you out, or kill you Chai?" Tears streamed down Betty's face, she already knew the answer.

"Doesn't even matter that your Dad was arrested for possession tonight does it?" His arm snaked around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him as he sat with her on the edge of the bed.

"He doesn't exist to me. You are what matters to me. You! I can't lose you." Her lip trembled as she looked up into his eyes. Her heart ached, she wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

"You're not gonna lose me beautiful. Charles is helpin' to make sure of that." Malachai didn't want to make such a statement, he couldn't be certain of the future, but he didn't want her to lose it more than she already was.

"Where, where is Charles?" Stuttering over her own staggering breaths, Betty felt like she might implode.

"He's getting his essentials with Bats and Rats, then he's going to be staying at The House of the Dead." Rubbing a hand over Betty's back, Malachai relived the last few hours in his mind, over and over again.

"There's more. How can there be more?" Sucking in a breath, Betty waited for Malachai to speak.

Taking his arm from around her, he scrubbed his face with his hands. He wished that Red was there to help with the explanation of what had really happened. Supposing it really wasn't the kid's place, Malachai breathed in deep, sitting up right.

"Your Dad is pretty good at lying. In fact, I'd say he's one of the best I've ever encountered. How he's not a lawyer or a politician is really shocking to me. I guess writing for the only news paper in town is close enough. Did you know he turned Charles away, told him that your Mom didn't want him?" He stood now, pacing uncomfortably across the room and back.

"Charles came here? Looking for his family?" Not being surprised at her Dad's obvious response, they had all seen how he dealt with Polly and the twins.

"Yeah, your Dad is a real dick. The lies he spewed as Keller put him cuffs, he makes me sick. He knows about you being a Serpent and all. He didn't know about me though. Blamed Jughead for the Jingle Jangle that was lining his car doors and seats. Keller laughed at him." His body was tense, he'd wanted to rip the man's trachea out with his bare hands, the evil hurtful words that Hal spit about his own daughter, it made him burn with anger.

"Tell me something I don't know." Her remark came out much more harsh than she had intended. Her nerves were getting the best of her.

"Okay, something you don't know. Your Dad runs drugs for Hiram Lodge and the Greendale Ghoulies. I watched him accept a box filled with Jingle Jangle and money. He traded secrets your Mom told him over twenty five years ago for protection from Hiram Lodge. He sold out his family for a few dollars and immunity in a trial if it ever came to it." Malachai was on fire, seething with deep rooted fury. The way he'd reacted tonight showed weakness, fear. He couldn't let himself get carried away with his hatred. He almost blew his cover, almost let Keller and Hal know that he was listening to the bug in the room that Hal was arrested in.

"Wow." Not knowing what to say, Betty felt her whole world fall on top of her.

"Yep. I need a shower. I can still smell that fuckin' hotel lobby." He didn't wait for her, he just took off his boxers, threw them in the hamper and entered the bathroom. The light flashed on, then the door slammed shut.

Betty jumped at the sound of the door. She had seen Malachai upset, irritated really, never pulsing with anger. It almost scared her and all she'd witnessed was some pacing and a door slam. What was he like when he really let people know how he felt. What would he have done to her Father? It didn't matter because, Malachai was the target of another President's wrath. Her beloved was to be removed from the Southside all together and she had a feeling she knew the means they would use to execute the plan.

The water turned on, Betty looked toward the closed door, light radiating from the spaces in the frame. Standing now, she took the fifteen steps toward the door, her hand resting on the knob. She decided to remove the few articles of clothing she had on; tank top, shorts, panties, all discarded into the hamper with Malachai's clothes. Taking a deep and audible breath, she turned the knob and entered the bathroom.

Silently she closed the door, not wanting to lose the steam that had built up already. Malachai's silhouette shown through the simple blue shower curtain. Taking her hair from the hair tie on top of her head, she used her fingers to rake through her strands before pulling the curtain back and getting in the shower with her angry boyfriend.

"You decided to join me." His hair was wet, long and wavy down the back of head. Water sluiced over his sinewy backside. She shivered from the misting of water that moistened her skin.

"Of course I did." Her tone was brighter than before. The thought of losing him entirely kept her humble.

"I thought you might wait until I was done. So you could be alone." Turning to look at her, he couldn't keep the emotion from his face. He was damn near a broken man. He didn't know how much time he had with her, or if he should even be thinking like this at all.

"I don't want to be alone baby. I don't want to be away from you." A tear slipped from her eye, mingling with the water droplets from the shower.

"Come here beautiful." Taking her in his slick heated arms, she let her eyes slide closed, savoring the feel of him all over her. Loving the way the water rolled over his body and onto hers. Letting her fingers run paths over his back, memorizing the planes of his body for the thousandth time, it would never be old. She could never get enough of him, she would always long for his touch. "I love you so goddamn much Betty."

"I love you too Chai." Her throat hurt from the impending emotion that settled there. Tears fell hot and heavy from her eyes.

"Oh baby, please don't cry. It kills me when you cry." His wet hot palms covered her cheeks, bringing her mouth to his. His kiss swallowed her lips as he pushed her body through the spray of water and against the cold shower wall.

"If you have to leave, I'm coming with you. You can't leave me." She spoke her thoughts out loud.

"I'd never leave without you. You're my life you know. My family. My everything." Then his tongue was slipping through the seam of her lips, tasting her tongue, demanding all of her. She let him plunder her mouth, and he let her take hold of his hair.

"The water is going to run cold. We can do this in bed." She had pulled away from his mouth, gasping for air.

"Yeah, your shower isn't as big as mine anyway." His brow raised mischievously.

"How long do you think we have?" She tried not to think about his shower or the long drawn out makeout sessions they'd had there; among other things.

"Long enough. It all depends on what the Serpents decide to do. I'll call a meeting as soon as possible." Handing her the shampoo, he met her eyes. She was shattered.

"Let's just get through this weekend. I'll get a bag packed just in case. I'll keep it at your place." Thinking of having to leave sent a jolt of pain through her. Things were just starting to look up.

"You don't have to do that, it might not get to that point." He didn't bother to look at her, she could tell he was just trying to pacify her.

"Don't do that okay? I'm not stupid, don't treat me like I am. I'm packing a bag, and if you even try to leave without me, you better pray they catch you first." With all seriousness, she poked him in the chest, suds from her finger slipping down to his navel.

"I'm trying to be optimistic." Still not meeting her eyes, he ran his fingers through his waterlogged curls.

"You're ridiculous." She turned from him.

"It's almost your birthday and you're worried about _my_ well being. How fucked up is that?" Shaking his head, his eyes fell to the swirling soap water running down the drain.

"We might be looking at an all out war and you're worried about me blowing out candles on my cute little cake. No, Im worried about the man I love being killed over straws filled with drugs. Sorry if my birthday doesn't really register after what happened tonight." She huffed in frustration.

"I'm not gonna be killed." He said, not believing in his own words.

"Right, like you actually believe that yourself? You said we have time? How much do you think?. Rinsing her sudsy hair, she was silent, waiting for a response.

"A couple weeks, maybe. I'll pull FP and Alice into a meeting tomorrow morning. We'll go from there." Trading her places under the spray, he massaged his scalp, pushing soapy water from his curls.

"How are you going to tell them about Charles?" Her hands were slick from conditioner, she rinsed them under the water that missed Malachai.

"It's all part of the same meeting. Charles will already be at the House of the Dead, so we'll have the meeting there. Should be interesting." He chuckled, but the humor never met his eyes. They switched again, bodies grazing as they slipped by one another.

"Is it bad that I'm already tired from all of this?" Turning the shower head toward the wall so they could wash their bodies, Betty huffed.

"No, I've, been tired since my second whiskey. That's sayin' a lot." He turned her around, rubbing her back with a soapy loofa, watching the suds run the length of her curves. He'd never tire of watching it.

"I hate Hiram Lodge." Shaking her head, it was a brief distraction from the tears that threatened to fall.

"Don't worry about him. It will all work itself out. Rinse off beautiful." He didn't even bother to rinse the sponge, he simply added soap to it and washed his own body.

Silence fell between them, their monotonous motions of rinsing hair and soapy bodies went almost too quickly. They moved from the shower to the tile, gathering towels from the shelves over the toilet, drying themselves off and barely looking at each other. Malachai waited for Betty to exit the bathroom before turning everything off and following her out. He was thinking hard about his next words, his next moves. Like he was a fourteen year old boy all over again.

"Where will we go?" Betty voice nearly failed her as she slid the towel from atop her head, throwing the damp material in the hamper with the other discarded items from tonight. Picking up her brush from the vanity, she reluctantly began to run the bristles through her golden tresses.

"Anywhere you want. Probably best if we don't go where there's a lot of Ghoulies though." His hair was dripping over his sculpted torso, something she'd seen many times. It intrigued her now. Water accumulating at the ends of his curls, dropping gently over his pectorals then sliding down below the fluffy white towel. The contrast between their lives apparent in the small space between them.

"Maybe someplace warmer than here?" Her deep green eyes never left the water droplets racing down his body toward the towel slung low on his hips. She wanted to taste every drop, follow them down beneath the material that concealed his manhood.

"Can we talk about this later? I have other things on my mind. Besides, the way you've been eye fuckin' me has my motor runnin'." Biting his full bottom lip, he looked Betty up and down, his mouth watered.

Ripping the towel from his body, he lunged for her, taking her towel and tossing it somewhere, anywhere away from her. His fingers tugged her legs up and over his hips, his own towel falling to the floor before walking her to her sweet princess bed. He laughed to himself, she pulled away to meet his eyes.

"You laughin' at me Cardenas?" Her arms were wrapped around his neck, their faces inches apart.

"Not even a little bit. I think its funny how your room is. So sweet and innocent. If only it reflected how you really are." Laying her down, he hovered over her body.

"It'd probably look a lot your room." She shot back at him. Her fingers taking hold of the damp hair at the nape of his neck.

"I love you so much." He was desperate for her to know, dying for her to feel it.

"Show me." She whispered.


	14. Crown

**This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

 **Crown**

… **~*~...**

 _A/N: Trigger warning. Stripping and language, because honestly, these people are in outlaw clubs and tote pistols in holsters covered by leather. Character death ahead. Don't worry, I didn't do you dirty._

 _If you would like to see the pinterest board I made for this story, check it out here: scarrasco1325._

 _Also, let me know if you want a youtube playlist for the music to this crazy adventure. Without further ado… ~S.C.~_

… **~*~...**

The even rise and fall of Betty's breath told Malachai that she was still asleep. Feeling relief that he beat her awake, he slipped from the cozy bed. Tugging on a fresh pair of boxers from one of the drawers he now kept in Betty's dresser, his next task was to quietly creep around the room gathering his other garments so he could leave the room and at the very least snag a shooter from his car.

With the most success he'd ever had in all his life, Malachai was taking the steps two at a time, throwing open the front door. It was much cooler than he'd anticipated, a shiver ran from the base of his skull down his spine. Hugging his arms to his own body, he sprinted toward the classic car resting curbside, regretting not taking the extra time to put on his jacket and shoes.

Unlocking the trunk, it popped open, the expansive space illuminated by the early morning sun. Somehow it was brighter today, maybe because of the impending threat of snow, or the fact that his woman was just that, a woman. The day he'd been calmly checking off on his calendar had just arrived. Either way, he reached in for his duffle, it was something he kept in place just on the off hand that he'd have to leave on a whim. He was in the business of highly illegal drug affairs at the time and it was part of his getaway plan. Stash his cutty at a cousin's crib, leave in a beater from said cousin's _business_. It was a good plan. They all had one. Except for his girl. She'd never needed to figure out what she'd do if she was wanted, if she was being locked up, if Sheriff Keller had her kissing the heated hood of his cruiser, ready to haul her in based on rumor. Betty Cooper had no clue what it felt like to be scared to close your eyes and try to sleep, or turn your cheek because your enemy might put a bullet in your temple. No, she was something else. Good, kind, and sweet; Betty was all the things naturally that he could never be. Deep down, he struggled with sobriety, struggled with keeping his head above water and not nose diving into boosting cars for crisp hundred dollar bills. It was a struggle not to sip leisurely on the expensive tequila, or the cheap tequila or the goddamned vodka Batso kept in the desk in the office at the House of the Dead. He was dealing with it, Mexican coffees on the weekends, shooters under the seat of the Cutty, or in his saddle bags of the bike. It was the drugs that was the real issue. He ran a club for God's sakes, like drugs weren't being sold and distributed on the floors everyday.

He'd been rolling joints for the distribution when the first of the new batch of Jingle Jangle came floating through his bar, the sight of the multi colored straws making his mouth water profusely with need. His heart beat fast, nostrils flaring with his deep breath, and cracking self control. It'd been almost two months and he hadn't said a thing to Betty. Learning about her Dad and long lost brother last night would be shock enough for awhile. Her entrance into the Serpents was not without its bumps and bruises, nor without stress or doubt. So Malachai kept his secret, went to more meetings, begged for comradery even as the number of patrons dwindled due to new found addiction. The man was a pulsing wound, festering with infection, desperate to heal and be whole again.

Feet froze to almost numbness, Malachai made his way back into the house, sighing in relief when the heat rushed over his chilled body. Looking around the house, he seen how much it had changed. The white on white on bland and cookie cutter had been replaced with Alice Cooper, rededicated Serpent and Serpent King mistress, paraphernalia of the life she led now on every wall and table top. There was steam billowing from the kitchen, the sound of water spraying harshly in the wash basin. Taking slow, wide steps, he set his bag down next to the foyer table, continuing into the kitchen.

"Hey Mal! I wasn't expecting you up so early." Taking a squeaky clean pan from under the scalding stream of water, Jughead set it on the cook top.

"Yeah, couldn't really sleep. Have that meeting in a few anyway. Watcha doin'?" Sitting down at the breakfast bar, Malachai folded his hands together, waiting patiently.

"There were some dishes left from last night, I was washing them up and putting them away. Probably get some coffee and breakfast going." Washing his hands took a bit longer than it should have and they both knew it.

"You were here last night, weren't you?" It was a question, yes, but it was already answered when Jughead let his shoulders slump.

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but you and Arch were loud, and then you and Betty were louder. I stopped listening after the water turned on." Rubbing damp hands on the paper towels he'd tugged from the roll, Jughead met Malachai's stoney expression. "I haven't said anything to anyone. I won't, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm worried about your half brother, who dipped out on his charter last night, roaming the streets of Southside. I'm more worried that you know our plan to bail if things go sideways. You have to keep your mouth shut, no matter what." He was not amused, not upset, just even tempered and menacing. It was more overwhelming than when Malachai's anger bubbled to the surface, spilling over in a slow lava explosion. Jughead didn't like this at all.

"My lips are sealed, I swear on Senior's grave. Charles can stay here, I'm sure Alice and my Dad will want him here." Jughead silently went about starting coffee, placing a filter into the basket, scooping out the ground beans into the filter. It was something to keep him from faltering under Malachai's scrutinizing stare.

"Say Charles does stay here. Say Ghoulie Magic gets tipped off, shows up out of nowhere, what are ya gonna do then Jughead?" Malachai had not moved an inch, he simply sat, hands folded and watched Jughead's reaction to the question.

"I uh, I'm not sure. I never really had to think about it before." Jughead's brows furrowed, crossing his arms after flipping the coffee pot on. "What do we do?"

"Your guess is as good as mine kid." Letting his dark eyes leave the blue of Jughead's, Malachai shook his head.

"Will you leave? Let the Ghoulies take over Southside, all of Riverdale?" Leaning on his elbows, Jughead played with the fraying edges of his flannel shirt.

"What I _want_ to do is run.

Take Betty and get the hell outta here. That's what I would have done four months ago, six, a year ago. I have to stay and fight. It's gonna blow Jug, be a real shit show." Malachai swirled one of his rings around his finger. The hulking metal skull was a reminder to him of what he really had to do. Who he had to protect.

"Meetings in a couple of hours, we have time to think and make breakfast for the birthday girl. The party is tonight, and Veronica's Serpent dance. We have a little bit of time be normal, at least tonight." Pulling a carton of eggs from the fridge, Jughead set them on the counter, then pulled out the milk.

"You're right. You're not so bad, you know that?" Standing from the bar stool, Malachai went to the drawer where Alice kept the bread and took a loaf out.

"You're not too terrible either. We just had to figure out how to get along. Living together part time will do that, sort of." Jughead cracked the eggs into two different bowls, adding milk to both.

"True, but if we're being honest here, we judged the fuck out of each other." Malachai sliced stacks of bread with a bread knife, setting them next to one of the bowls. His next task was to gather cinnamon and vanilla, also setting them by the bowl.

"We did. Rightfully so. You were a drug dealing mayhem addict and I was a clingy asshole ex boyfriend." Jughead looked toward the stairs, he'd heard something, and didn't want Betty listening in, much like he'd done the night before.

"She's probably up, doesn't matter if she hears, I'll tell her everything anyway." Whisking the milk and egg with cinnamon and vanilla, Malachai looked at Jughead for his reaction.

"Your transparency is what keeps you guys solid. I could never be one hundred percent honest with her. I couldn't tell her that I broke it off with her because of Penny. She would have been used as collateral, either I was a drug mule, or Betty was the compensation for Penny getting my Dad out of jail." Jughead was dicing veggies for the omelets while Malachai put two pans on the stove top.

"Penny didn't get FP out." Whirling around, Malachai caught Jughead's wide eyes. "He was released because of the surveillance footage that was given to Keller. Penny had nothing to do with it. She was knee deep in Jingle Jangle at that point."

"Son of a bitch!" Slamming the knife down on the cutting board, bits of onion and pepper went flying with the impact. Jughead felt anger surging through his veins, he had been played for a fool.

"Hey, no reason to get upset, bitch is worm food now. Although, I can see how being used could piss you off." Placing pads of butter in the hot skillet, Malachai was cool as a cucumber.

"How can you be so calm?" Trying to diffuse his anger, Jughead took plates from the cupboard, setting one down for Malachai and the french toast.

"I'm not calm. I'm a goddamn mess Jug. You know how many straws get passed under my nose everyday? It's a struggle to breath in the club without wanting grab some Jingle Jangle and go to town. All this other stuff is secondary really. I'm desperate to stay sober." Swallowing thickly, Malachai started dipping bread into the egg mix, then laying them flat in the cast iron. The sizzling of the searing bread settled between the two.

"She doesn't know. She had no clue about the Jingle Jangle, so she wouldn't know about your struggle. That's why you've been gone a lot. Not as transparent as you'd like to be." Silence fell between them, save for the french toast sizzle.

"Kind of hard to explain that I struggle to do my job because I'm worried about straws filled with kool aid." Their eyes met, understanding gracing Jughead's features. Then a look of sympathy replaced the understanding and Malachai bristled.

"Don't pity me Jughead. I liked getting high. I deliberately set aside thousands to feed my addiction. I willingly sent my guys after you so I could follow through with the Southside take over. I'm a piece of shit and we all know it. Your judgement was correct, I was just ass hurt because I had Betty to lose." Flipping the pieces of toast over in the pan, he placed several more pads of butter in the bottom.

"Yeah, well, I helped. I knew there was drugs in those crates, and I still moved 'em. I knew that Reggie was selling, and that the straws were being passed around the locker rooms, I never did anything to stop it." Jughead felt like a real winner, adding butter to his own pan, then adding the chopped veggies after.

"Thing is, you aren't responsible for an entire club and it's welfare. Your Dad is though, and we both struggle. Not with the same things, but we struggle. It's shameful. The way your mouth waters at even the memory of the feeling. How it smells when you tear open the damn straw. The way it tingles on the back of your tongue, it's almost more of the actions than it is the drug itself." His hands had started to grip the spatula harder, the tendons on the back of his hand popping up under the smooth skin there. Closing his eyes, he swallowed again, regretting bringing the memories to the forefront of his mind.

"My Dad does that too, at the Wyrm. Everyone drinking, doing shots, the whole damn place must make him crazy." Jughead felt guilty for judging his Dad. Seeing how a simple conversation could bring out the intense desire for a substance that you knew could ruin you forever, it changed how he seen the world of addiction.

"Your old man is a pretty badass guy. He had my back in County when the Serpents were tryin' to win pissing contests. He's better at being sober, has more to lose. If I fail, Betty has you to fix her." Malachai flopped several more pieces of toast onto the plate.

"Don't forget about me! I think I'd do Betty a world of good, conciderin' we stole a car together." Leaning against the door frame, a large jug held in his hands, Sweet Pea was smug as usual.

"Aw jeez. Who could forget you, especially when you always pop up uninvited." Jughead shook his head in disapproval, turning off the burner and moving his skillet to an unused burner.

"Hey, who says I'm not invited? Deville says I can come over any time. Her offer stands, and it's her birthday. I brang horchata." Holding the jug up, he shook it in front of his face.

"Of course you have a standing invitation. Betty _would_ be inclined to take pity on you." Washing the cutting board and knife in hot water, Jughead mentally winced at the burning of his flesh under the steaming stream.

"Hey, you can think whatever you want to about me, but she's my friend, my family. If anything happened to her I don't know what I'd do." Setting the jug down on the counter next to Malachai's plate of french toast, Sweet Pea looked down to his well worn boots.

"What if something happens to one or both of us?" Jughead waved a finger between him and Malachai as he asked a most important question. Malachai looked up to his cousin, the guy that was more hermano than primo.

"I'd die to keep that girl safe. You know I would. What's goin' on, and don't bullshit me." A large palm lay flat on the counter, a stark contrast between the white marble and the deep caramel coloring of Sweet Pea's skin.

"Jesus, where do I even begin." Shaking his head, Malachai set the last of the french toast into the buttery pan.

"Start with the hotel." Jughead clapped a hand on Malachai's shoulder then went for the fridge, wrenching it open with a shutter of the contents of the door.

"I thought it was odd when Red came in the Wyrm last night and downed a sixer to himself. Good thing he already told me where you guys were headed before he took off last night." Sweet Pea wasn't smug this time, he just settled into the countertop, and waited.

"Well aren't we fortunate for that. What else did Red tell ya?" Turning off the burner, Malachai folded his arms and waited, taking note of the little smile that tugged on his cousin's lips.

"He didn't tell me that Jughead was here. I figured I'd come over and talk this through with you before FP and Alice walk through that door. My guess is you were going to bounce, but then you thought better of it. Thought your alliance might actually save your ass for once." Snagging a piece of french toast from the mountain on the plate, Sweet Pea shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

"You want a medal Sweets? For thinking the whole thing through?" Malachai stood still, large arms tensing under his shirt.

"Nah, I want to know what the fuck you were thinking? You should have had FP and Alice on the horn seconds after you left that sleazy hotel. You should have brought Charles to the attention of his parents." Sweet Pea took to pacing the floor, his heavy footfalls harsh in the silence of the kitchen.

"I should have done a lot of things Sweets, but here we are. Can't change it now." Malachai's large arms swung out to his sides, the menacing grin he used to break down his enemies firmly on his face.

"Evolve or die." Jughead let the phrase fall from his lips, his brow furrowing in understanding, then his eyes grew wide. "That's it! Evolve or die! Damn it! You're so much smarter than I want to admit." Jughead left the strawberries he was rinsing in the sink. Careful to shut off the water.

"You talkin' that Ghoulies shit is gonna earn ya a black eye Jones." Sweet Pea was standing tall now, his hands pressed under his arms.

"Hey, fuck you cuz!" Malachai flicked Sweet Pea's ear.

"Don't you get it? Evolve or Die. We have to join forces or whatever, evolve into something better, smarter than Hiram and Magic. Serpents and Ghoulies. Betty's been walking the line the whole time. She sees both sides of the fence like they're the same." Jughead was louder than he thought, his exclamations ringing through to the upstairs landing where Betty had finally begun to descend the stairs. She'd heard quite a lot of Jughead's and Sweet Pea's ranting.

So when Betty heard the tail end of Jughead's musings, it made total sense to her. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, hands shoved into her back pockets.

"Evolve or die Baby, evolve or die. Has a nice ring to it, seems to be the theme of the day." She winked at Sweet Pea who smiled wide at her words, knowing more secrets than just the few between his cousin and Archie Andrews. "The evolution begins tonight."

…*...

The Whyte Wyrm was packed to the gills, leather and studs, snakes and skulls, it was a mish mash of the Southside no one had ever expected. Betty kept her secrets, except from Sweets who had heard the whole truth from Toni the night before. He was really looking forward to the performance, it would have to be better than the last one, and no crazy antics between Betty and Jughead, thank God.

FP had the microphone in his hand, he was going on and on about family ties, and the reconciliation of fractured families, combining their numbers would enforce their victory over the Greendale Ghoulies and they'd be able to take down Hiram with the help of his very own daughter in their ranks. Giving the stage over to the girl, she timidly stepped into the spotlight.

Good thing for Fangs and his tight knit relationship with Toni and Sweet Pea, he was ready to add three more spotlights to the stage as soon as the song came on.

Veronica felt so alone among the throng of unfamiliar faces. She wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, but she found the face of the one she'd be losing if she didn't take this step, if she didn't show her true alliance with the Serpents. So when the first notes of a song hit through the huge house speakers, Veronica let her body move with it. The tips of her fingers tracing the outside edge of her breasts with the swivel of her hips, and then the beat dropped, three other lights flooded the stage. Betty, Cheryl and Toni made their way provocatively toward their places on the wooden stage. Four button down blouses came flying off of the girls, their precise movements meant to evoke their friends or boyfriends from the recesses of the crowd, it worked like a charm.

When their bottoms came falling down to pool around their ankles, the four girls kicked in unison, sending the articles of clothing flying at four obvious male figures front and center, earning cat calls and whoops and howls from the crowd.

Malachai was mesmerized by Betty's movements, his jealousy reigned in for the time being, knowing that his girl was working the stage for his benefit and no one else's. She caught his eye with her own, turning in the light, taking hold of her own hair so the crowd could see her snake bite on her shoulder blade. The turn she did next gave everyone an eye full of Malachai's own ink work, his skull over her heart, delicate roses adorning her skin like they had always been there. He was fucking proud of his woman. Taking that stage for a second time, it took balls, and she had such a different response, he was salivating for her.

Cheryl and Toni were eye fucking each other the entire time, seductive touches and glances any time they could get away with it. They were dancing for each other and no one else, but that didn't keep Jughead,Fangs and Sweet Pea from whistling for their girls, Betty and Veronica included.

Veronica came out of her shell, running through the steps like she was at a football game. Eyes only for her Archiekins, she let the music move her around the stage. They had worked so hard on these moves, to make sure this meant change, but when it came down to it, it meant that Veronica made the right choice. Archie was so engulfed in the performance, he hadn't noticed the change in tune until Veronica put a crown on her head. The fake plastic ones from the dollar store party section, each girl had one set neatly over their hair. Then the girls were full frontal sex appeal. Fishnets and garters, each sliding over the pole that was a permanent fixture in the Wyrm. Cheryl was out for herself, loving the attention they'd gained, using her Vixen's experience to roll over the front of the stage. Veronica came to stand in front of Archie, a thumb and finger wrapped around the string of pearls at her throat, and she tugged. Pearls went flying into the crowd and over the stage where Cheryl began grabbing the loose pearls and tossing them out over the heads of strangers. On her knees in red fishnets with bright red cherry rhinestone garter clasps, Cheryl flung them on by one into the crowd.

Veronica had found herself following in Cheryl's movements, tossing pearls as she rolled over the wooden flooring, her dark waves grazing over the small of her back.

Toni was executing the steps she'd planned out with Betty earlier, so that the other girls could have their time in the spotlight. They were new after all. It was going off without a hitch, their secret defense mechanism, the change of pace in the smoke filled bar. They all felt it as soon as the girls took off their shirts. As the end of the song came near, Betty and Toni joined the other two girls. Fully out of breath the four of them stepped off stage, waiting for FP to approve or throw them all out.

"What can I say fellow Serpents? We have never had anything like that happen here before tonight. I think we could get used to it. Let's hear it for our own Toni Topaz, and Betty "Coop Deville" Cooper." There was a round of howls and clapping. "Now for our newest Prospects; Miss Veronica Lodge and Miss Cheryl Blossom. Welcome ladies. As for our guests, our long estranged brothers, the Ghoulies, welcome. Thank you for joining us, it is quite the night. Betty's birthday and the reveal of her snake bite, among other things."

Malachai had taken hold of Betty as soon as she slid from the stage, coveting her exposed flesh with his calloused fingers. His mouth watering at seeing his mark on her body exposed for all to see. Her state of undress was not at all bothersome to him, in fact he found the skull garter clasps to be an intriguing choice. His front teeth were bright against his lips as he bit into the bottom one, his smile wide for only her.

"Betty, Happy Birthday." FP hugged here briefly, then handed the microphone to Malachai.

"Ghoulies, your Queen." A rockous clapping and stomping mixed with yells erupted around them, it stopped when Malachai jumped up on the stage. "As you know, we gained a member from Greendale last night. It's my honor to present this Ghoulie, he's had a shit time. FP and I argued about who would introduce him, being FP and Alice's kid after all." Looks passed between the faces in the crowd, astonishment, shock, smirks of knowing. Charles took the stage with Malachai, hugging his new president. It was a day of hugging and crying, apologies and exchanges of numbers and dinner at what would be his new residence on the Northside. He did not expect for this to happen at all. He would have rather not be introduced to anyone, let alone a bar filled two different gangs. He needed a drink, and quick.

"This is isn't about me, although, I don't mind being here with all of you, it's about my little sister. Birthday shots all around. Happy Birthday Betty." Taking a step off the stage, Charles hugged Betty for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She hugged him back, and when he released her, she kissed his cheek.

"Thanks for coming. I wasn't expecting you tonight. I know it's been insane." Betty had taken hold of the studded jacket cuff around Charles' wrist, tugging him back toward a table that Sweet Pea was saving for them.

"It's not everyday that you get to watch your sister strip for your club, not to mention the Southside Ghoulie Queen for that matter. Had to come." He winked, it was eerily similar to FP, amd Betty was almost mesmerized by it. To find out what exactly the young man gained from each parent, the mannerisms they shared. It was intriguing.

"Beautiful, you're staring." Malachai took hold of her free hand, tucking her into his side, and raising a brow at Batso, his jealous my rearing its head, over her brother no doubt. The taller blonde turned on his heel, making his way to the bar.

"I'm sorry, it's incredible, how similar you are to FP. More than Jughead." Feeling like she needed to give it a rest, so she changed the subject. "Anyway, so sit, have a drink." Charles hadn't let his gaze wander, he was just as interested in their connection as siblings as Betty was.

"You guys have time to get to know each other, get annoyingly sibling like." Sweet Pea said, tapping the base of his ring on the cracked table top.

"Do we, have time?" Betty was being an asshole now. The guys all looked to her and the one arched brow and her unamused face. She leaned her chin on her palm, searching the room for the other girls, only finding Toni, fully dressed, behind the bar. Suddenly feeling a bit chilly, Betty realized she was still in her lacy corset and fishnets.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean babygirl?" Malachai's voice was raised, not so she could hear him either. The anger simmering below the surface was evident in his tone.

"You know what it means, we all know what it means. I need to change. I'm cold." Her answer was directed at everyone, but the purse of her deep cherry lips was enough to have Sweet Pea and Charles sit back in their seats.

"I can see that. Go on, warm up a bit. I have business with my men anyway." Softening only a bit, Malachai ran the backs of his knuckles down Betty's bare arm. She looked up at him, like he'd shocked her. Her anger fading from her face quickly. Nodding her head, she rose from her perch on the chair next to him. Then Ratso banged his fists on the table.

"Hey there Coop Deville. Killer tune there in the end. You tryin' to say something?" He was his usual bubbly self, lazy eyes raking over her barely there attire. She caught his eyes with her own.

"I was actually." She winked at him and Sweet Pea, who rose from the table and walked after her.

"Okay, what did I miss? Who the fuck is that woman?" Ratso took Sweet Pea's place at the table.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Watching the way Sweet Pea parted the bodies for Betty as she swayed intently through the crowd toward FP's office, Malachai was trying to figure out when exactly she had changed, and why she felt so damned unfamiliar to him.

"She's like a blonde Abuela." Ratso said, taking a shot glass from the tray that Batso had set down in front of them. Looking behind himself, Batso watched Betty disappear through the swinging doors at the end of the bar with Sweet Pea.

"She really is, I never would have said it outloud dumbass, but I can definitely agree. Look at her whippin' Pea's ass into shape." Batso sat next to Charles, handing him a shot glass.

"It figures you'd find a hard ass. Someone to put you in your place when you're when you're being a total douche." Charles looked to Malachai, a small smirk curling the corners of his lips up.

"Now _you_ sound like my Abuela. Come on, we have business boys. Put em' up, to Babyface Smith. Southside para la eternidad." The clink of their glasses sloshed some golden colored liquor over their fingers, then they flung their heads back and gulped.

…*...

"Your mouth is gonna get you in trouble Deville, Malachai doesn't like it when people talk back to him." Sweet Pea was allowed back in the office when Betty hauled him through the door and shoved him toward the battered old sofa against the wall.

"Oh shut your mouth Sweets, he can just deal with it. I'm not going to be pushed around like some virginal little princess anymore. They want a Queen, _he_ wants a Queen, they'll get one. I need you in my corner, that's why I had Toni tell you everything last night." Sitting on the couch next to the hulking boy, Betty tied her shoes, relieved to be out of the damned stilettos that Cheryl insisted upon them wearing. "The guys out there, _his_ guys, they aren't there for me, not like you are. Not like Toni and not like Jug and Fangs. I have my guys, he has his and they have their Queen."

"Shit Betts, you sound like Grams." A soft smile played on his lips, it was nice to see Betty finally stand up for herself, be who he knew she could be.

"Do I? I've been feeling so different, since…" Catching Sweet Pea's wide eyes with her own, Betty's hand went to the skull and snake at her throat.

"Holy shit. Grams' blessing! That's why you sat there so calm at dinner when I jumped Fil. Grams was eating like nothing happened, just like you." Throwing his head back over the top of the couch, Sweet Pea laughed heartily, his shoulders shaking with the force.

"What's so funny Sweets?" Betty looked worried, she knew it, honestly she was.

"It figures that you'd be the one to carry the torch, you're a pain in the ass. You put us all in our place, I can't help but lay at your feet Betts, if you asked me to lay over the train tracks, I'd do it gladly, for you." Pulling his pack of smokes from his jacket pocket, he lit one as soon the filter touched his full lips. Betty watched with amusement, letting the information swirl around in her head.

"I'd never ask you to lay down on the train tracks. So how does this work? You're what, like a Queen's Hand?" Relaxing ever so slightly into the couch, Betty waited for Sweet Pea to answer.

Inhaling deeply, Sweet Pea let his bottom lip hang open, the smoke rising into the nostrils of his nose. It was the first time Betty had ever seen such a thing. Sweet Pea's index and middle finger were clamped around the filtered end of the cigarette as he brought them up to point in her direction. Looking dangerous with the smoke forcefully exiting his nostrils now, Sweet Pea spoke low. "Exactly."

"Well damn. Here I was thinking I was losing my mind. Like I shouldn't be saying half of the things that I do. I feel so out of sorts." Betty crossed her arms, feeling a slight chill.

"Well, you're only saying what you think and feel Betts, it's not like your necklace is charmed. The blessing just allowed you to feel more yourself. To settle into your own skin. I mean, there was magic, brujeria, but not like mystical weird shit." He repeated the french inhale, he liked that Betty watched him so intently. It was something he'd never tell another soul, he like that she confided him, trusted him, that they were friends.

"Oh no, just brujeria. Nothing weird at all." The sarcasm dripped from Betty's tongue.

"It's not weird if you know what's going on. You'll learn oh mighty Ghoulie Queen. So fuckin' awkward. Talk about weird." Stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray, Sweet Pea stood, adjusting his belt and jacket. Reaching for Betty's jacket on the arm of the sofa where he'd been sitting, he shook it out for her. "Come on, better get back before Mal sends his goons to rearrange my face."

"I'd never let that happen." She said, sliding her arms in the satin lined sleeves, untucking her long blonde curls from under the collar.

"I have total faith in you m'lady. Shall we?" Holding his arm out for her to take, she slipped a hand into the crook of his elbow and let him lead her from the smoky little room out into the raging barroom.

"There she is!" Batso almost knocked the wind out her when he took her up in his bulging arms. "Come on, you owe me a dance. After that peep show you gave the boys, I wanna make Kevin a little jealous." With a wink, the older Ghoulie swung her around and out to the crowded dance floor.

"What'd you two talk about?" Jughead yelled in Sweet Pea's ear.

"About how she's a bitch cuz my Grams did some magic on her. Nothing crazy, just to bring her out of her shell." Sweet Pea said it with all honesty, watching as Batso dipped Betty very Dirty Dancing style.

"Yeah, okay. Can't you just say it's none of my business?" Jughead clapped Sweet Pea's back and walked backward towards the bar.

"That's the thing Jones, I'm being brutally honest, and you can't seem to hang." Slamming a fist down on the bar top, Sweet Pea motioned to Toni for two shots.

"So your Grams is a witch?" Jughead's face contorted into confusion.

"She's a bruja. Not like the old hags in Greendale, all devil worshipper woods and shit. Abuela does natural magic, earth magic, alchemy." They clinked their glasses together, tapped them on the bar too and shot them back.

"Can she make it so your cousin doesn't look at us like he's plotting our death?" Jughead motioned toward Malachai at the other end of the bar. Sweet Pea smiled, and nodded at his cousin.

"I could, but then Betty's plan would fail and we'd look like little bitches. Let her deal with the almighty Ghoulie King. Tonight, we drink and play pool and fall down drunk at your place. Then tomorrow we can worry about Mal and his jealous streak." Sweet Pea held out a hand to Jughead, for the first time ever, and without hesitation, Jughead took it, shaking on their plan for the night.

"Pool then?" Jughead reached over the bar, taking two warm bottles of beer and handed them to Sweet Pea. Sweets already had his lighter out, popping the caps off of one and handing it back to Jughead, then the other.

"Let's go win some money for breakfast at Pop's." The two boys shoved their way through the mass of bodies and disappeared from Malachai's view.

"Trying to kill them with your devilish good looks?" a sweet and sultry voice rang in Malachai's ear.

"Not exactly. Trying to figure out what my cousin and your ex boyfriend have that I don't, you know, to be in your good graces." The brown bottle came to his lips and he let the liquid flow freely into his mouth, swallowing hard.

"You want to do this here, now? In front of all these people?" Betty leaned an elbow on Malachai's shoulder, her other hand sweeping over the crowd in front of them.

"You know what? I think I do. I want you to tell me why you're such a hard ass bitch to me and let _them_ fawn all over you. You're _my_ lady, my fuckin' wife Elizabeth." He was loud, he didn't care, earning the awkward glances and silence of the patrons around them.

"Okay. Fair enough. It's a problem when I speak my mind. You take it as undermining you, like I'm deliberately defying you or something. You just don't know how to be with someone who takes your shit and throws it right back at you." She was in front of him now, dead serious green eyes bobbing from one of his dark ones to the other. "I'm not one of your silent unassuming lays. I have opinions and feelings too. I let you spit your rules and expectations more often than not, without a rebuttal, but not every time. Not anymore." Her lip quivered, slender fingers wrapping around the skull entangled with the snake.

"I know who and what you are, and I know you're different too, and stop bringin' up old shit." His thumb came up to brush away the tear that dared to slip from her eye. "Shits just been different. It started with how you spoke to my Mom. How you sat so dignified and ate turkey dinner while your lackey beat the hell out of my brother. It didn't seem normal, it still doesn't." Swallowing against the emotion in his own throat, Malachai placed a hand on Betty's hip, bringing her to stand between his large thighs.

"Sweets says…" Betty began, but stopped when Malachai shook his head and looked down at the small space between them.

"I thought I was wrong about him liking you, kept telling myself that I was imagining things." Betty put the pads of her fingers over his still moving lips to silence him.

"You think you know it all, but your jealousy gets in the way of your understanding." Betty leaned forward, fingers still covering his hot mouth. "Brujeria." Was all she said in his ear, sliding from between his strong muscled legs, reaching behind the bar for her bag while he figured it all out, perched on the barstool, eyes closed tight. He was struggling with his anger and the intense need to grab Betty and take her away from all the prying eyes.

She left him to rub circles over his temples, slipping from the bar, into the cold December air. Veronica and Archie were outside, sitting in the cab of Fred Andrew's truck. She knocked on the window to the truck, Veronica rolled it down.

"B! Whats up girl?" Veronica could tell something was off and before the blonde could answer, she opened the heavy door and slid over next to Archie.

"Thanks V, Arch. I just want to go home. I came with Chai, but things are off tonight. I just want to sleep." There were no questions asked, Archie simply put the truck into gear and drove them all home.

It was a while before Malachai realized that Betty had left the Whyte Wyrm entirely. There were no texts from her, no one knew where she'd gone, but one couple was missing in particular, and he knew he'd royally fucked up. Betty tagged along with Red and Veronica and went home. Feeling like a complete ass, Malachai said his goodbyes. Offered Charles a ride home, which the quiet Ghoulie accepted. The ride to the Cooper home was silent, Charles looking out the window at the change in scenery from Southside to Northside. Malachai gripping the steering wheel until his fingers were almost bruised from the pressure.

"You think she's being different, but she's never had the option to really be herself until now. I know how she feels, and I kind of asked around too. Jughead, he's like an eighty year old in a seventeen year old's body. Fountain of information too." It was the first thing Charles said since they left the bar. He didn't know how much he should say. "Sweet Pea told me something about magic and her necklace. That's not true, he said a blessing of the necklace. Maybe you need to talk to your Abuela, she might know what's going on." They were in front of the Cooper house, nothing but the street lamp light flooding in the windows to allow them to glance at each other.

"You're a snoop like your siblings and Mother, and a good friend with solid advice like your Dad. Never in a million years would I have guessed it." Malachai offered Charles a smoke, he took it. Lighting the tobacco with his own lighter, Charles looked up at the house.

"If we can move past our bullshit, be fucking adults, we can take those maniacs down. Being upset because your woman has a mouth on her, that petty shit will get us killed." Inhaling deep, Charles let his head fall back, he looked over to Malachai when he exhaled.

"Talk about an eighty year old man huh?" Sarcasm to mask the need to ask questions. Being aloof to hold down his mass of emotions boiling to the brim, ready to spill over. Coping mechanisms that Malachai had never really got rid of. The last piece to his puzzle, the way he knew Charles, it wasn't just as cut and dry as going to school with the guy.

"Let's start with _not_ pretending we lived in the same group home, and not acting like this shit is weird as fuck. Then we can be honest with ourselves first, and then with Betty and Jughead, and finally with the people around us, that depend on clarity. I can't stuff it all down like you do, drown it all in JJ and hope to God it doesn't rear its ugly head. I'm not getting sucked back into the straws, not going back to Shankshaw, and sure as hell ain't detoxing on the fucking bathroom floor of the Sisters ever again. I've made up my mind." Pulling the door handle, Charles pushed the door open and exited. Before closing it, he bent down to look at Malachai.

"More pearls of wisdom?" Sarcasm again. Charles shook his head and laughed.

"I need you to let me in, don't have a key yet. I took a few of those pearls from the Lodge chicks necklace, fuckin' things are real. Not giving those to you." Shutting the door and standing tall, Charles noticed that Red was hanging out of the window of the house next door. "Hey Mal, what's up with Red over there?" Pointing to the exasperated red head dangling half way out of his window.

"What? Oh shit." Flinging the key ring into Charles' hand, Malachi ran around the side of the house, first looking for the ladder he had stashed on the side of the house, then looking into Betty's window.

"Jesus Mal, get in there, Veronica ran over to see what was going on and she called me, but the phone went dead. I was trying to open her window, the ladder is gone. There's three guys in there, that's all Ronnie managed before the call ended."

Charles was already fumbling with the keys trying to open the front door. Finally getting one to turn the lock in the door, he was met with an obstacle blocking it from opening all the way. "Mal! Come help me!"

"Red, pop off texts, Ghoulies and Serpents, I need your ass over here, packin'!" Malachai ran back around to the front, the lights inside were off, absolutely out of the norm.

"It's a giant table or some shit, help me slam the door open." Charles was already gearing up for the abrasive action, sucking air in through his flared nostrils. Malachai gave a signal for them run into the door, it budged open enough to let them in

It was the foyer table, the lamp was broken and the Serpents art was ripped to shreds over the foyer itself. Silently, Malachai pulled the piece he carried from his holster inside of his shirt. It was open all the time for a reason, not just to show off his assets. Charles did the same from inside of his leather jacket, the pair taking the safety off in unison.

Checking the ground floor first, they cleared it quickly and precisely. When they rounded the wall from inside of the living room, Archie was silently entering the door, he had his gun ready and firm in his hand. They went up the stairs quietly, for three bulky guys with leathers and studs, they made not one single noise. Clearing the spare room, Jughead's room and the two bathrooms just before Betty's room and finally Alice and FP's room, Archie motioned toward Betty's room and got into position to push the door open.

Malachai gave the signal again and they all three flattened themselves against the wall outside of the slowly opening door. Archie got a look into the bathroom mirror across from where he stood, Betty and Veronica were inside, tied together on the bed. With two fingers and a head nod, Archie let Charles and Malachai know he had eyes on them. Confirmation they were there. Who were the assailants, who would do this to two teenage girls. Then a shot was fired, just above Archie's head and the girls screamed through their gags. It happened so fast, it was almost like it didn't happen at all.

Malachai turned and pulled the trigger, the bullet finding its way into a body just inside of the last bedroom door. Charles got down to his knees and took inventory of the scene before him. He took a shot at the second body hurling it's way through the door, contact made, head shot. Archie flew to the wall adjacent to them and began firing at a third figure inside. Two out of three wore Ghoulies jackets and studs, the last wore a trench coat in disrepair. The bodies fell to the floor, and Malachai kicked guns from their hands. Archie ducked into Betty's room to let the girls free.

The man in the trench coat begged for his life, especially when Betty came bursting through the door, he fake sobbed and grasped for his youngest daughter.

"Please, I didn't want any of this to happen. Please don't hurt me." He begged, snot and spittle flying from his nose and mouth.

"You been here long?" Charles said, placing a steel toe covered in spikes over the blubbering man's throat. Hal Cooper's cries of desperation ceased immediately.

"You!" A meaty finger jutted out from the sleeve of his coat. "I knew she should have aborted you. Bastard baby of a whore and a-" His sentence was cut off when his airway was, a bit of pressure to shut the moron up.

"You can say whatever you want about me, but anything about my family is off limits. Funny how you said they were _your_ family, and in the end they're mine." Charles raised the barrel of the gun, taking note that Betty said absolutely nothing to the man begging for his life, she simply clung to Malachai, and smiled when he pulled the trigger. "Goodbye Hal Cooper."


	15. Fox Clan

**This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

 **...~*~...**

 **Fox Clan**

… **~*~...**

Blood had soaked into the cream colored carpet, there was so much of it, too much of it. It was wrong, out of place here in this house. Crimson puddles pooling around heads, and hands and feet, the eye sockets of one man were tide pools of blood amidst the flesh shores of his face. Veronica had finally stopped screaming, having subsided into sobbs sometime after Charles and Betty had taken to yelling at her in unison for her to shut up and get it together. It was the most sibling type of reaction Malachai could have ever hoped to have seen. The similar looks on their faces, the reddening of their cheeks after utter exasperation, even the huffing and heaving of their chests were similar.

The surreal feeling that engulfed Malachai in this moment; sopping up the brain matter from a guy he'd been to juvie with more times than he could count, and the silent and calm way that Betty went to work on lifting ankles and soiled rags onto spread out shower curtains, it blew his mind completely. This was not the same girl he'd bought cake and coffee for all but four months previous, she had changed irrevocably. He couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't entirely his fault for the obvious changes in Betty. The words Betty had whispered in his ear earlier were not lost on him. Brujeria. His Grandma had some hand in this, Greendale had another. Who was he kidding? Alice would have had some contributions to the girl he was watching sop up blood, on her hands and knees just opposite of him, the blood of her Father bright and glistening over her fingers. Alice was born into this, and her mysteriously quiet children were beyond comfortable in their current positions. Seeming almost in her element, Betty was a true Serpent, taking quick to clean up and disposal like no one he had ever seen before. Charles gave instructions to Archie and Betty simultaneously, and it was Betty that took the care to do as told, Betty who dared to question and nod in agreement when Charles gave her answers.

Sliding the lids of her deceased father back over his green-blue eyes, Betty held her tongue, the things she'd hoped to say directly to the spiteful thorn in her side, she'd never be able to say them now. She wanted to say so much, shout at his lifeless corpse that he would never be able to hurt her again, she would never forgive him for watching as the men touched her and ripped her clothes from her most intimate parts, instead she opted to tuck the grossly oversized trench coat into the plastic he'd been set on top of. The words mulling through her head silently, deadly on the tip of her tongue. Shoving the burning fiery hatred deep inside of her broken heart, Betty looked at the scene around her.

"How are we supposed to get three bodies out of here without half the neighborhood seeing it? The carpet has to go too." Archie was the first to mention their predicament out loud, the weight of what he'd gotten himself into landing firmly over the crown of his head, an incessant pounding pressure that suckled energy and logical thought from him. Tired limbs moved piles of bloody towels and skull fragments, he wanted to empty the contents of his stomach.

"I don't hear any sirens yet. Serpents and Ghoulies at the Wyrm will know how to distract the law. You're wet behind the ears Red, you'll see how we dispose of pieces of shit soon enough." One of the bodies had already soiled itself, the smell permeating the air they all breathed in together. The guy was someone Malachai hadn't seen before. The tattoos on his neck signified his Greendale affiliation. As if the fox tail and wooden beads hanging from under his cutte weren't enough, the guy had runes carved into his skin, tell tale signs of Greendale witches. "Who's this Babyface?"

"Uh-" Charles looked the guy over, dropped the bloody towels onto Hal's corpse, stepping over puddles and bodies, stopping where Malachai stood. "Looks like Shawn. Roll up the left sleeve, should be a skull and fox tail there."

Sure enough, the guy had the ink of a Greendale witch turned Ghoulie over the skin of his forearm. Malachai sucked in a breath, it was uglier than he thought. If they had witches to deal with on top of the JJ and Hiram and Magic, Southside would need a miracle to stay standing.

"It's alright, let's get 'em wrapped up and into a trunk, then we can discuss what exactly a Greendale Ghoulie with a foxtail means to Betty and Red." Charles went back to Hal Cooper's body, lifting the edge of the plastic to tuck it tightly around the still seeping head wound.

"Maybe we should wait on that until FP and my Mom get here. We should at least have them present." Betty was staring vacantly at mess she was cleaning.

"How are ya beautiful? You holdin' up over there?" Pushing a tuft of curls from over his eyes with the back of an arm, Malachai stood tall, his muscled arms distracting Betty temporarily, she licked her lips. When their eyes met, Malachai's hardened features softened. Only for her, even after the worst month they'd seen yet, he always melted for her. The small smile she sent him was enough to allow him to properly exhale, releasing the tension in his shoulders.

"I'm alright. Better than I thought I'd be." Standing to help roll her Father in the shower curtain, Betty caught Archie's narrowed eyes. "Just say it Arch."

"How can you be calm Betts? What's going on in your mind, your Dad is dead and I-" An open hand motioned toward the Ghoulie that Malachai was rolling in another curtain, blood trickling from the end of the unkempt roll. With defeat and a little bit of remorse for his actions, Archie slumped his shoulders.

"It's unfortunate yes, but after what I've been through tonight, after what _he_ let them do-" Tears welled in Betty's eyes. The first sign of weakness she'd shown in awhile. She felt sick.

"What did they do?" Malachai's reaction was appropriate this time. Not at all like his earlier displays of jealousy, he wanted to know what the Greendale Ghoulies were doing in his woman's house after all, smacking around members of FP's family was enough to bring hellfire down on all of Greendale.

"It's not important Chai, we can talk about it when we get the bodies downstairs, it will all be laid out." Sniffling, Betty rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. Catching her brother's crystal blue eyes, she let a tear fall and he wiped at it with the back of a clean finger.

"They searched you for your skull?" Squinting at Betty when she nodded yes, Charles tilted his head to the side in contemplation. "There's no Property or name, so you're free for the taking, Serpent or not."

"I had my jacket on. My property patch is on there. I thought it'd be enough." Another tear fell, leaving Betty frustrated with how her body was betraying her.

"Doesn't matter. Greendale has their own rules. Fox clan rules." Charles looked from Betty to Malachai, huffing in frustration. "Betty's right, get the stiffs outta here, wait on the Serpent King, then we talk."

…*...

"On what planet, in what galaxy is it ever alright to take a President's Lady's patch from her jacket?" Taking his frustrations out on the massive hole he was helping to dig.

"Honestly man, I tried to explain to you before. Magic got his name from somewhere, and it wasn't by coincidence Mal." Charles was enjoying the manual labor, digging dirt and tossing it over his shoulder. It was more than that really, but the basic movements and burning of his muscles allowed for him to be calm when he spoke.

"How did we get caught up in this exactly?" A body rolled from the edge of the earth, a muffled huffing noise came from Jughead with his exertion.

"Money, Jughead, it's all about money, and power and territory. Big swingin' dicks, you know." Malachai threw his shovel out of the hole he and Charles were digging as Jughead disappeared from view.

"You two would know all about the swingin' dicks now, wouldn't ya?" Laughing, Charles put his shovel on the edge of the opening in the dirt, using the handle for leverage to climb out.

"Yeah, well, you Jones boys are a pain in my ass. Hard headed assholes if you ask me." Using all of his strength, Malachai pulled himself from the hole as well, dusting dark moist soil from his hands and front side. The three men stood, looking at the two remaining bodies in front of them.

"Assholes or not, we got your back, every time, regardless of circumstance." Clapping Malachai on the shoulder, Jughead bent over again, pushing the rolled up body across the dirt.

"That's right! Hey! What's this I hear about a certain female wannabe lady, long lost lover stompin' all over the House of the Dead?" The smirk on Charles' face was enough to piss off the Pope, but Malachai just nodded his head, an uncomfortable smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Of course you heard about that. Why wouldn't you? Probably the first thing out of Ratso's mouth when I left the house." Jughead laughed a little, stopping short of the edge of the hole with corpse number two.

"Yeah, big mouth on that kid. So Sarah came back after what, six years?" Pulling a cigarette case from his leather pocket, Charles offered the others a smoke before taking one for himself.

"Three, and it wasn't Sarah. It was Candy." A shameful look passed over Malachai's features before he lit the cigarette.

"Excuse me! _Candy_? Her name is Candy? Please tell me it wasn't as bad as Rat said it was." Jughead inhaled, the smoke burning delightfully in the back of his throat.

"You heard too, just great. Yeah, Candy, and it was worse. Rat has a big mouth, but he spared my dignity, I'm sure. A little." Releasing a long breath, the smoke billowed around the three males, swirling like tendrils of vines in the headlights of the Cutlass.

"Fuckin' Candy though. I told you she was trouble. You can't trust chicks named after food. It's like asking for VD and your bank account to be drained at the same time." Charles looked up at the moon, obscured slightly by the fir branches above. He let the cigarette rest between his lips, inhaling through his mouth, exhaling through his nostrils.

"Okay, so what happened with Candy?" Jughead tugged his beanie from his head, running his hand over his matted black hair, exhaling the drag he'd taken off the cigarette.

"Aw, you know how entitled chicks are Jug, they think everyone wants 'em, everyone owes 'em. She came in the House of the Dead, I was rollin' joints, as I do weekly. She sits down, I saw blonde hair out of the corner of my eye." A deep inhale off the cigarette, and a shake of his head, Malachai was reliving the moments one by one. "I said, 'Hey babe' and that was it. Rolling joints in a darkened, smoke filled cesspool of debauchery, and this bitch grabs my dick like it's the handle of a wrench. This thirsty bitch, right in front of Betty and Ratso and Batso, no shame."

Both Jughead and Charles' crystal blue irises went wide in shock, mouths partially agape at the admission of Malachai's injustice.

"My thoughts exactly. So I look up at Tits McGhee over there and she's licking her lips, cleavage out all over and it's the wrong hand in my crotch, wrong face before me, wrong voice calling my name." Stubbing the butt out on the heel of his boot, Malachai put it in his leather pocket, no evidence left behind.

"Okay, and what happened next?" Charles knew something that Jughead didn't, he winked at his younger brother.

"Next? Well, of course Betty was behind the bar with Ratso and Batso, learnin' a thing. So she drops a glass and hurls herself over the bartop and grabs Candy by the hair. Swings her around by the brown roots of her hair, punching her face with every word she's spittin' in my direction. Screaming about what a piece of shit I am, and if this is how she's gonna be treated, then I can shove my necklace and my ring straight up my ass. She literally threw the skull at my face, with her other hand tangled in bleach blonde bimbo curls." Malachai pulled out his pack, he was the only one that had finished the first one. His nerves were shot enough for him to chain smoke, and he did.

"That explains the new chain." Jughead pondered, catching Malachai's obvious irritated stare.

"And the lack of name over her tattoo. She wears it on the leather, but she doesn't want it on her body. You fucked up my friend." Stubbing out his cigarette, Charles mimicked the motion of placing it in his jacket pocket.

"No, that's not why. We thought the patch would be enough. I didn't know I had to carve my chick up so Greendale wouldn't try to take her as their own. No one said there were witches, fox clan no less Chucky." Malachai ran a hand through his hair.

"Ha! Don't call me that bro. You know I hate that shit. I called as soon as I was able, and this is about you and Betty, not me." Charles kicked the body over the edge, the thud making him a little queasy, he swallowed hard, pushing back the bile that rose in his throat. You never got used to this really, just learned how to deal with it better.

"How was I supposed to know that the girl was coming in to see me? I don't exactly keep meaningful friendships with my exes." The look Malachai gave Jughead was one of irrational anger.

"Hey man! Don't throw me under the bus. I never touched Betty after we broke up." Jughead put the cigarette in his mouth, then stuck his hands up.

"No, you just professed your love to her one drunken night at the Wyrm, while I was sitting right there. I knew you had it bad for her Jug, I pushed it away and you both said it was nothin'. It wasn't nothin', at least not for you." Malachai walked over to the last body, rolling him a bit easier than Jughead had rolled the previous two.

"I'm sorry that you can relinquish feelings for another person so easily and I can't. I've known Betty my entire life, literally. Pardon me for still caring about her. Doesn't mean I'm waiting in the wings for something to go wrong. I'm out here with buckets full of lye and three bodies, just like you. I'm not at the house ready to snag her back while you deposit bodies alone in the night. And while we're pointing out flaws, why don't you tell the truth about the Sarah chick while you're at it." Jughead pushed the last body over the edge when Malachai stood in shock.

"I knew Rat wasn't lying about that nut job." Charles nodded from Jughead to Malachai. Then went to the car, opening a door to remove a huge bucket, barely able to handle its weight.

"Woah, woah, woah. Back up the asshole train, Sarah's a nutjob?" Jughead looks at the bucket with disgust.

"Sarah? She's an insanity case, certified cookoo little brother." A finger rose to Charles' chin, a look of mock contemplation graced his features.

"Just be real, who is she and what happened?" Jumping down into the hole, Jughead landed as best could with no light. Immediately he took a flashlight from his pocket, turning it in to illuminate the expansive area.

"You see, Sarah _loved_ Malachai, she would do anything, 'member Mal?" Turning toward the other Ghoulie, Charles smiled, Malachai rolled his eyes while slipping his hand into a plastic glove. "He remembers, anyway, she got this idea she'd join the Serpents with Mal, she got her little lingerie thing goin' on. She sets it up with FP, for the exact night dude over here 'sposed to get his bottom rocker right? No one says Mal didn't get in, they just send homegirl up the river without a paddle." Laughing a little to himself, Charles slaps Malachai's chest in jest.

"That's it? She pledged and he didn't get in. What a rip off." Shaking his head, Jughead puts gloves on too.

"I'm gettin' there kid, hold your horses." Also putting gloves on, Charles lets his snap loudly over his wrist. "So her dance wasn't great, nothin' at all like those girls tonight, damn!" Both Jughead and Malachai look at Charles, similar looks upon their faces.

"I hope you know what you're sayin' brutha." Malachai said, jumping down into the hole with Jughead.

"I wasn't talkin' about Betty, jeez, that little brunette, the lodge chick and the maple syrup goddess, fuck me runnin'! So anyway, back to switchblade Sarah".

"Switchblade, for real Malachai?" Jughead's shock was written plainly on his face.

"Yeah, he's skipping all over and not at all, get to the point while I unwrap these meat sacks alright?" Malachai wasn't into this, it was just a way to keep Jughead from puking and leaving DNA behind with the stiffs.

"Sarah finds out after the dance, after Mal leaves the Wyrm, after he's already prospectin' for the Ghoulies, months passed. We were at The House of the Dead, just getting presented our cute little studded jackets, and Sarah comes in, brandishing a switchblade. Dre stands up and asks who the bitch with the balls is, and Sarah slices Dre's arm open." Charles says all this while doing his best to lift the lid from the bucket without spilling it's contents. With success, he waits for the other's to climb back out of the hole.

"So she slices Dre, and she lived to walk back into the House of the Dead for a second time and find you?" Jughead says, offering a hand to Malachai still in the hole. Malachai takes it.

"Yeah, by the grace of God, Dre didn't turn the blade on the chick." Malachai and Charles both take hold of the bucket, tipping it over so the contents spill onto the bodies and not onto their legs.

"Sarah's antics all those years ago were nothing compared to what Betty did to her." Malachai did his best not to jostle the bucket.

"I heard Switchblade touched Mal and then Betty touched Switchblade." Charles smiled brightly at Jughead.

"Oh jeez, yep. Just tell the story." The bucket was empty, Malachai walked it back to the car with the lid in hand.

"Sarah put her grubby little fingers all over Mal's abs, touching everywhere she could manage before he jerked away." Pulling his gloves from his large fingers, Charles tapped Jughead's arm with his ungloved hand.

"Haven't ya noticed he's buttoning up lately? Apparently it was a shit show."

"I was gonna ask, but I didn't want to pry, and Malachai's been pretty pissed at me. What did Betts do to Sarah?" Shoveling dirt back into the mass grave, Jughead waited silently.

"Our sister seems to have a serious dark side to her. Not like the force, but like a split personality maybe?" Contemplating the theory, that maybe he wasn't too far off, it seemed a fair judgment. He was quite similar in his own nature.

"I never thought of it that way, but Alice seems to be that way too. Two sides to every coin I guess." They shoveled in silence for a minute, listening to Malachai murmur on the phone with someone while he moved things around in his car.

"Betty smashed that girls face into the bar top. Split her face like a melon Jug. Ratso says Betty held onto Sarah's hair, swinging her around the bar like a rag doll, it took them awhile to get all the blood out of the chairs, but they did it." They had come to the end of the dirt pile, smoothing it over top of the fresh dug earth they'd replaced.

"She roofied a guy and tried to drown him for saying he had sex with Polly and Veronica when he didn't. She's ruthless." Charles frowned at Jughead.

"Polly's the one between Betty and Me? The one who got pregnant by our cousin and ran off to some cult right?" Leaning on the shovel handle, Jughead nodded his confirmation to his older brother. "Huh."

"God we sound so fucked up." Jughead felt the shame, mostly for Charles, but he still felt it. To find out your family was right under your nose the entire time. Then there was the incest and mental illness. Multiple stents in The Sister's of Quiet Mercy, alcoholism and poverty. It was family curses through and through.

"At least you aren't related to Betty, sleeping with your half sister is a lot worse than sleeping with your cousin." Fake punching his little brother in the chin, Charles winked at Jughead.

"Yeah, there is that, I never slept with her. Doesn't change that I had to watch her dance on that stage for the second time tonight, standing in the audience with her crazy new boyfriend and the half brother we both share. What a nightmare." Jughead picked up the shovel, holding the rough wooden handle in his hand.

"Eh, he'll get over it, so will I. He's used to losing things, everyone leaves in the end, even the crazy clingy bitches. It's how he protects himself, defense mechanism. See, I usually push people away for the wrong reason. I find the most ridiculous nonsensical trivial reason and run with it. Marathon running. Baton is all mine runnin' with it." They made it to the already running car, placing their shovels in the trunk, Charles slamming it shut.

"Sounds familiar. I guess you get that from Dad too. That's how we got into this mess in the first place, right?"

…*...

"We have to replace the whole room and half the hall. You'll never get the smell out of the fibers even if you could get the fucken stain out Mrs. Cooper. Sorry, Mizz." Batso wrinkled his nose before looking up at Alice Cooper in the wreckage of her bedroom.

"It was time for a change anyway. How much?" Taking another look around the bedroom she'd shared with Hal for the last twenty years, and then with FP for only a few months, Alice put her fists on her hips.

"Hard to say, the blood might have stained the wood underneath-" Alice cut him off.

"No hardwoods underneath, just the mat and pad. Hal was a cheap bastard, look at the carpet if you don't believe me. Might as well have been burlap for how plush it was." Frustration marred her features, the anxiety deep inside of her bubbling to the surface with no way of hiding it. Wringing her hands in desperation, Alice sat on the bench in front of the bed, careful to avoid blood spatter and what she was certain was brain matter or a skull fragment near her thigh.

"Depends babe, we could turn this place into a Gatsby paradise or we could run stolen pallets from behind the grocery store and save a shit ton. Either way it's up to you, and either way, it'll look like fucken great." Batso stood, placing a cigarette between his full lips. Alice watched, taking note of how elegant the young man's actions were. So much more than she knew anyone to be.

"I've got to tell you, I don't know what to do. Pour gasoline on every surface and light a match, or smudge the goddamn place and pray for forgiveness." Alice felt lost. She looked it even more.

"Tell ya what." Batso took the cigarette from his mouth, clamped it between his thumb and middle finger, stray strands of spun gold falling into his face. He pointed at the floor with his index finger, one eyebrow raised in contemplation, smoke rising from his outstretched hand. "We pull the carpet, no harm no foul. Repaint some unassuming color over the blood splatter. Take us two, maybe three days with help from Serps and Ghouls. No charge to you, just a favor for the Pres and his Ole' Lady. You take some time babe, a fucken breather if you will. Get your hair and nails done in the city, I know a place. Stay the night in a nice hotel with FP, come back and then tell me what you want." He took another long drag from the cigarette, ashing the cherry over the rapidly oxidizing blood stains.

"Yeah, sure. I'll just pack my things." Mindlessly, Alice went to the closet, tugging out her suitcase, haphazardly throwing clothes inside, a toiletry kit, her phone charger and some shoes. Batso walked over to Alice, stopping her in her robotic tracks.

"Hey, we'll take care of this. Mal has more than enough resources to make it right. I'm more than capable of making this place livable again." Pulling the older woman into his embrace, Batso felt her shuddering breath, the heavy exhales of a woman torn in two, desperately clinging to sanity. Her open hands came to rest on Batso's upper flanks, Alice was so much shorter than he was.

"I'm not worried about the money really. I'm worried that Charles shot Hal, and that Betty's only reaction was to cry about being manhandled by Ghoulies." Alice closed her eyes, allowing Batso to smooth over the back of her head.

"I think Babyface takin' out Hal Cooper was a favor to both of his families. He made right with Mal, and right with Betty. You haven't shed a tear, so what difference does it make if the guy got pegged in the dome? He let some nasty ass thugs rip Betty's clothes from her body, then slap her around. They took her property from her jacket Mama, you know what that means." Taking one last drag from his spent cigarette after letting Alice loose from his thick arms, Batso flicked the butt to the carpet and stamped it out.

"Yeah, I do. This means war."

…*...

"Greendale is full of Ghoulies and Serpents, like here, but there's witches too. Old school, cauldron and all. There's these old families, they settled there before anyone else had. They call themselves the Fox Clan. Magic is Fox Clan." Charles yawned, rubbing his temples and leaning over the large dining room table in Alice's house.

"Ferka Pike was disowned by his family a long time ago. We went to Riverdale High together. He was younger but, we were still civil." Alice let the information loose in the room, the real name of the Ghoulie King of Greendale rolled off her tongue with ease.

"How do you know his name Alice? You had left to the Sisters before he started asking questions." The look that FP shot Alice's way had all of the room looking back and forth between the two.

"Really FP? You really know nothing about me at all." Folding her arms over her chest, Alice rolled her eyes and looked at her eldest child sitting at the table next to her youngest.

"So that's it? No hint as to what I'm missing, just an attitude for no reason Alice?" FP held his hands out in questioning.

"An attitude for no reason. That's rich coming from you Forsythe. I'm going to put the coffee on." Sauntering from the room, Alice ignored Ratso, who was trying to explain that he'd already made a pot.

"Okay, good to know where it comes from, right Mal?" Ratso chuckled to himself, then stopped when Malachai offered him a death stare.

"Not a good time Rat. Don't you think you've said enough today or in general?" Malachai shoved his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"If you're insinuating that I'm crazy like my Mother Ratso, you have no idea." Winking at the bog across the table from her, Betty intertwined her arm with Malachai's.

"Oh my God." Ratso smiled uncontrollably, he liked the danger that Betty presented, even more so when Malachai was obviously pissed at the exchange.

"Real smooth Rat. Way to get the boss to gut you like a fish." Batso clapped his hands over Ratso's shoulders and squeezed.

"Boss man knows I mean no harm." With his wide toothy grin firmly in place, Ratso winked at Betty. Her response was to nod silently, her hold on Malachai's arm tightening in reassurance that she wasn't so easily persuaded.

"She's not lyin' though." Charles was leaning in his chair, a long arm slung over the back of the chair.

"Stop being cryptic like that infuriating woman banging around in the kitchen and tell me what you know!" FP was beyond done, his nerves had him itching for a drink. He was unsettled by the night and even more so that his own son had murdered his long time rival. Swallowing thickly, FP pushed the ever present thoughts of whiskey on ice out of his mind.

"Pike is a family name." Charles said, offering no other information, he just looked to Betty and waited.

"Smith's and Pike's are cousins. Ferka Pike is our cousin on Grandma Smith's side." Betty let the words roll off her tongue like water. She'd known the name as soon as her Mom said it. She knew the connection, understanding the complicated situation right away. The entire room full of people, Serpents and Ghoulies alike, all stared at Betty and Charles, the half siblings settled into their seats like they were ready for a good book.

"You have got to be shittin' me. You hooked up with a Fox Clan grand-daughter?" Sweet Pea almost screamed it, his eyes wide like saucers, hands flat against the wooden table top. "She's practically a witch leader or somethin'!"

"Not exactly. Grandma Mercy is still alive. That's how I found out about the Cooper's, where they lived. We have a coven yes but Alice, Mom, would be next in line." Still sitting like a man without a care in the world, Charles smiled at a gaping Jughead.

"I guess we need to reach out to Magic. Get some rest boys, we're going to Greendale." FP pushed himself back from the table, a deep breath exiting his chest as his head hung low.


	16. Tea Time

**This Is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.**

 **Tea Time**

… **~*~...**

Watching the smoke rose high above the fir trees; rolling wildly through the needles and dormant pine cones, wispy plumes reaching for the heavens. Malachai hadn't been here since he was a young man, barely able to shave, the beginnings of manhood sculpting out the baby fat from his rapidly growing body.

Charles was taking a deep breath in, eyes rolling into the back of his head with the ecstasy that was his memory of this place. He'd run through these trees with Malachai and Batso; Ratso toddling along behind them. The older Ghoulies would bring them here to blow off steam and have meetings in the quiet. Charles loved the chill in the air, and the deep mossy aroma of the earth squishing beneath his heavy boots.

Between Malachai and Charles, Betty had a similar look of bliss upon her face. She'd never been in this particular set of woods before, but she could remember summer camp on the other side of Sweetwater River, and camping trips with Fred and Mary Andrews for Labor Day weekend, when the air was beginning to be crisp, dew collecting over their car hoods, freezing in the dropping temperatures as they huddled close in their tents to sleep. This experience resonated deep inside of her and is it did, both her and Charles hummed at the same time.

"You two are way bizarre." Ratso said, tripping over an overgrown tree root, nearly falling.

"Why?" A simple question, Charles knew it would be a loaded answer. Tugging his leather closer to his body, hands stuffed deep inside of the pockets, he waited for a response.

"It's like you're thinking the same thing at the same time. Don't even get me started on the crazy similarities between you and Jughead." Shaking his head, a shiver rippled through his torso, sending goosebumps over his extremities; Ratso tried not to let his teeth chatter.

"We share parents Ratso!" Jughead chimed in too soon, garnering several odd looks from Batso, Malachai, Fangs and Sweet Pea. Betty and Charles rolled their eyes at him. Simultaneously. Blue and green, right into the back of their heads. "You know what I mean, and yeah Rat, I know what you mean. Jeez. Even the eye roll is the same. Eerily like Alice."

"Jug? Just enjoy the scenery, Okay?" Betty held onto Malachai's hand a little tighter.

"I thought I was." It was meant to be under his breath, but all eyes were on the beanie clad boy; steam from his nose swirled like tendrils from his flared nostrils. "I should have stayed home."

"Couldn't have that little brother. You're part of this, whether you like it or not, whether they like it or not." Letting the words float in his brain, Jughead was beginning to see Charles in a different light. Not just his Ghoulie half brother from another mother, but as a stand up guy. A treasure trove of wisdom and amd silent honest answers. So much like their Father it was odd, and comforting nonetheless.

"You kids need to keep up, stop whinin' and shit. We still have another mile to go and Alice is damn near there." FP broke the seemingly awkward silence. Huffing and nearly panting from trying to keep up with Alice, FP wished he'd brought at least one smoke with him, he didn't even have a stick of gum.

"Hey Mr. Jones? Batso jogged ahead of everyone else, taking his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, offering one to the Serpent Leader silently.

"How in the hell…? Nevermind, thank you Batso." Flipping the metal lid to his zippo open, the flame grew like magic from the canister, lighting FP's cigarette. Offering the flame to his new found smoke buddy, FP watched Batso hollow his cheeks with the effort of inhaling.

"Thanks Mr. Jones. I figured, you of all people would need at least a smoke. I also wanted to ask you about the bedroom at Mizz Cooper's residence." Business was never far from Batso's mind, it was a wonder he ever slept, or had time to fix his perfect honey blonde tresses.

"Yeah, I'm sure it's nightmare. I can't believe how much you got done yesterday. I really appreciate it." Holding his hand out to the younger man, FP shook it firmly.

"Nah, it's nothing. I like the work, it clears my mind, if you know what I mean." Glancing at the tall blonde Ghoulie behind them, Batso winked at Charles. The response was not unnoticed by the others when Charles nodded back.

"I do know what you mean." Shaking the memories from the forefront of his mind, FP sucked in a breath.

"When we pulled the carpet padding up, the blood had soaked into the boards underneath. Babyface back there said he could pull the boards and replace them, no charge to Mama Coop. I said let's do it. I offered to send you both into the city, a couple of days away from this nightmare might do you some good. If we can make headway with Magic today, then it wouldn't be so bad right?" Batso worried the corner of his bottom lip with his pearly white teeth. FP let the words sink in, what a time to be leaving, but maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

"It could work. I have some cash tucked away too, it wouldn't be all on you. I knew Hal was up to no good, I should have kept better track of him. You know what? What the hell. Yeah, we'll go." Clapping a large palm over Batso's shoulder, FP smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Sweet! She won't be disappointed!" Clapping hands together, Batso almost bounced as he walked up the hill with the others. It most definitely helped in making up for the fact that they would be discussing the mass shooting with a particularly scary Ghoulie leader.

"Don't get too excited, but we're almost to the clubhouse." Looking back at the pack of leather clad teenagers behind him, FP felt the knot harden in the pit of his stomach. "You kids almost ready for this? Magic can be pretty overbearing."

"Watch it, we're kinfolk afterall." Laughing a little under his breath, Charles caught FP and Malachai's unamused glances in his direction. "Come on, it's not that bad. Magic isn't a total piece of shit. Give the guy some credit, he always watched out for me."

"We might have a little more ground to stand on if you and Archie hadn't blasted holes in our bargaining chip's foreheads." Snarky as usual, Sweet Pea chimed in.

"Because you're the picture of mercy when it comes to turf wars and the enemy fuckin' with what's yours? Don't act high and mighty Sweets, I've gone rowes with you and knuckle dusters on more than one occasion." Nudging the much taller Serpent with his elbow, Ratso winked at the bunch.

"I'm not a saint, I've just never seen anything like that before. Especially not with guys I've known, or seen around town." Hanging his head, Sweet Pea swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat.

"It's okay Pea. It was hard for all of us." Letting go of Malachai's hand, Betty came around to her newest friend, tucking herself into the lanky brunette's side, hugging him tight.

"You're a natural Coop, let's not forget that clean up." Malachai had spoken for the first time since they'd started bringing up the mess. He was casual in the way he half flirted with her. The way his eyes raked languidly over her curves as he licked his full pout made her heart pound furiously in her chest. Knowing full well just what he did to her, he blew her a kiss and bit his bottom lip; looking away to the leaves and branches crunching under his heavy booted feet.

"I think I'm gonna be sick, and not because of the gray matter we've been discussing." Fake dry heaving noises came from the quiet Serpent trailing behind Sweet Pea. "How do you guys deal with that shit everyday?

"It's a gift, we ignore them. Mostly tending bar." Batso laughed out loud, letting his head fall back, the steam of his breath floating up to the heavens.

"Oh thank God, we're almost there." Jughead could see Alice up ahead, arms crossed, irritation written over her features. The arch of her brow was high over her narrowed eye. "Can you believe I actually prefer the wrath of Alice to watching these two eye fuck each other every second? Who would have thought?"

Jogging ahead of everyone else, Jughead gave an angry looking Alice a hug. Returning the gesture, she was relieved to see the rest of their group coming into view.

"'Bout time. You know how I hate to wait." The words for everyone and no one at all. Whipping around in her bulky winter coat, Alice led the group of mixed bikers to the huge wood cabin she had not been to since she was a teenager.

Breathing in deep, Alice reminisced about her girlhood. Picking wild mushrooms and roots for stews in the summer with the Smith's and Pike's. She could almost taste the smoke in the heat tinged air, the way the warmth from the fire pit lapped over her exposed limbs, toasting her to the marrow. She'd never forget how the vegetables seemed sweeter, the meat was juicier and the stars were so much brighter. It was in these woods so long ago that Charles was conceived. She snuck a peak at FP and then at Charles. They were so different, yet so damned similar. She couldn't help the way her heart clenched at seeing her Charles walking with Betty and Jughead. The pieces of FP and herself she'd always feared were gone forever.

"What are you thinking Ally?" FP's hot breath skimmed over her cool cheek, sending a shiver down her back.

"I was thinking how beautiful it is to see _all_ of our kids together, in the woods, where it all began. Like we're a family for real." Weaving her chilled fingers through FP's significantly warmer ones, Alice swiveled her head around again, making eye contact with the boy she'd reluctantly given up years ago.

"You alright Ma?" It was like they'd never been apart. The words of endearment falling from his pouty pink lips, Charles could sense the shift in his Mother's emotions. She smiled at him, unshed tears gleaming in her eyes.

"Yeah baby, I'm alright." Sniffling, Alice turned her attention back to the overgrown trail they tread upon now.

"We're only missing a few, then it'd be perfect." Bringing Alice's fingers to his lips, FP kissed her knuckles.

"One thing at a time I guess. We're nearly there, I can smell the fire." Her words were breathy, like she was lost in the smells she'd picked up on.

"So can I." Betty said, the world around her beginning grow fuzzy.

"Take my hand little sister, you've never been here before." Charles took hold of Betty's hand, guiding her forward over the now visible trail.

"Oh okay. Why do I smell Abuela's green chile, and I might be sick." Holding tightly to his middle, Sweet Pea turned a sickly shade of puce. Beads of sweat formed over his brow and torso, making the t shirt he wore stick the skin of his back. He most uncomfortable, pushing through the feelings and flashes of things out of the corners of his eyes, simply to keep up with his cousin, who wasn't faring too well himself.

"It's more like the roasted chiles themselves. The smokey smell. Totally overwhelming." Gagging over his own tongue, Malachai staggered forward, clinging to his cousin in the midst of his own undoing.

"It's the ring, it separates the witches from the common folk. You get used to it, or you don't." Alice swayed from side to side, a naughty smile pulling at her lips.

"Where's Jughead?" Looking around the group and not seeing his son, FP nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Be careful. He's holding up Fangs. Poor kid must have tossed his cookies." Charles motioned back to his beanie headed brother while tucking Betty under his leather clad arm.

"It's not for everyone son, the best of us succumb to the banishment ring." Alice clucked at him, still leading the group by a few feet.

"Or it's a curse, to feel the magic to deeply. To know the words used, the herbs burned, the spirits called. A family curse." Malachai was able to stand straight now, wicking the light sheen from over his face with handkerchief in his back pocket.

"Call it what you will, we all have a little something, some more than others." Winking at her daughter's boyfriend, Alice turned back around. "Doesn't it smell incredible? The earth, the trees, the moss even smells good."

"Did you miss being in the wild Cousin?" The voice was deep. roughened from smoke and drink and seeing too many unfortunate things. Alice turned in a circle, searching the clearing she now stood. There was nothing, no one.

"Searching my head for trouble?" She shouted, smiling to herself, knowing full well that no one else heard what she had.

"Searching for kin and deviants." It was whisper this time. He would show himself soon enough.

"Well? Which is it? Kin or deviants?" Again, Alice shouted to nothing and no one.

FP looked behind him at his oldest son. "What the hell is she doing?"

"She's speaking with Magic, telepathically. His name is Magic Dad." It was the first time he'd uttered the sentiment, gaining wide eyed looks from everyone except for Malachai. Betty held onto Charles a little tighter, her slight fingers pressing into the flesh his arm, it brought him back to reality, to the danger that their presence in this place posed. "We should really stand together, condensed, in case Magic doesn't like what he finds in our heads."

No one thought about it twice, they simply fell in place, shoulder to shoulder. Alice stood apart from them, her eyes searching the branches and shrubbery that surrounded them. She seen the red beard before she seen the man himself. It had grown to such a length that he could only be taken as one of two things; a biker or a healer. He was both. He'd taken the best of both of his worlds and utilized them for his own success.

"Babyface, good to see you here too cousin. I had heard you'd ran off with your tail between your legs, but I knew better." Chuckling to himself, the large bearded man came into view.

His hair was ginger and silver, laying in long straight sheets over his shoulders and down his back. He wore rabbit skins and fox tails around his back. He looked more trapper of times gone by than a modern Biker, or car club leader. His silver tooth gleamed in the sunlight, and let his hands rise on either side of him.

"You know I'd never run, even if it seems like you're out for blood Magic. Maybe we could talk over some tea leaves?" The feeling of Magic poking around free reign in his head was odd, he wasn't unused to it, but it felt weird nonetheless.

"Tea leaves it is." Turning on his large heel, he led the group the rest of the way up the hill, to a huge cabin. "Take a seat when we enter, no questions until the leaves are read. All of you. And no smart ass comments, do I make myself clear?" His huge finger jutted forward, pointing directly at a shocked Sweet Pea. "Don't think I can't hear your thoughts."

"Holy shit, just like Grams." Fangs was a little green, but he was upright.

"Exactly like _your_ Grams." Was all Magic said before he entered massive wooden door, leaving the boys to wonder silently among themselves.

The cabin was spacious, open and inviting. It was much larger than expected, the expansive back end going far past the kitchen and long table they were gathering around now. They only filled half of the wooden chairs. They were silent and questioning, and Magic heard every last word. Putting a large percolator of water over the fire on a hook, he then gathered tea cups and saucers for his guests. Setting a saucer and a cup in front of each person, he turned quickly and quietly on his heel. Alice rose from her seat, silent still, she went to a large door and opened it. Remembering from her girlhood, the stash of teas and spoons and honey, she placed the items into a well worn basket to bring to the table.

"Don't forget the milk. Grams always did take her tea proper English style." Magic knew how he sounded, brut and harsh, but after years of being hardened by the life he led, he couldn't care less.

"I'll grab the cookies too then." Sounding small, even to herself, Alice cleared her throat, rounding her shoulders and walking swiftly to the refrigerator to take out the glass jug that she knew would always be there.

"What's proper English Mama Coop?" Ratso questioned, honestly wondering, ignoring the barrage of steele toes to his own boots.

"Milk and sugar, or in this case honey. I have to get the tea pots as well, then I'll show you how to make your tea." The tea pots were on the shelf over Magic's head, Alice slipped quickly in next to him at the butcher block counter. Raising herself on her tiptoes, Alice reached for the ancient Pike teapot first and for the Smith teapot last. She could almost feel the energy they held, coursing through the pads of her fingers. Turning to her cousin, Alice felt a pang of guilt for the time she had been away.

"I can't believe you never taught your girls. I guess it's best that they learn here, with their kin." Bumping Alice with his fox tail covered hip, Magic let his menacing facade slip from his face. The twinkling in his bright blue eyes and the smile that slid over his face let Alice know that this would be a very different gathering tha. What they had previously thought.

"I wouldn't dare teach those girls from an expensive Cooper teapot purchased from Macy's. Such a travesty that would have been. Is Grams here?" Allowing herself to relax fully, Alice followed Magic to the table, where he set the hot percolator down on a pot holder.

"She'll be back. She said she needed some air." Sitting at the head of the table, Magic looked over the scared and silent faces of his fellow Ghoulies and those of similar fright of the Serpents. Alice sat easy into her chair, a hand gliding over one of FP's arms. "Charles, the tea, please."

Without hesitation, Charles stood, the legs of his chair scraping audibly over the wooden flooring. Taking the lids from each teapot, he added several scoops of tea leaves to the pots, then took a stray pot holder and the handle of the percolator in each hand. Steam rose from the stream of hot water entering the ancient pot; the withered tea leaves tinging it with it's essence. Repeating the motion with the other pot, Charles placed the percolator to it's place on the table, then the teapot tops quickly after.

"Let it steep for a few minutes, then we pour." Settling back into his seat, Charles caught the stares of the younger Serpents. "What?"

"We've never seen this type of thing before." Fangs admitted, quieter than he'd anticipated.

"Usually we rub eggs over our bodies and crack them in bowls of water to see if someone put the evil eye on us. Or we pray and lay hands and Betty turns into a stone cold bitch." Shrugging off the lethal glare of his cousin, Sweet Pea tucked his hands under his arms.

"You did what?" Alice's shrill reaction perked the group right up. Pushing her chair away from the table slightly, Alice stared daggers at her daughter and Malachai.

"It wasn't _like that._ Abuela did a blessing, for us and she gave Betty her pendant. It wasn't a big deal." With a hit palm rubbing circles over Betty's thigh, Malachai was able to keep his composure, he wanted to smack his cousin upside the head.

"It wasn't a big deal? Fil and I fought each other under the table and Betty sat there with Grams and ate turkey dinner. Like it never happened. She took your Mom's shit like a pro too, mere mortals could never withstand the sharp tongue of Benita Casteñeda." Sweets nodded at Betty, the smug look on his face let everyone know he was proud of her.

"It's not a big deal, I settled into my roll. Get over it, all of you." The silence that filled the room when Betty rolled her eyes was unnerving.

"That command you gave, it really resonates. The boys seem to respond well to your authority. Abuela must have known you'd need a push in the right direction." The twinkle in Magic's blue eyes had Betty smiling slightly at him. "I take it the lanky puppy dog over there is thoroughly engrossed in your every move. Must be _rough_ at family meals, huh Malachai?"

"You have no idea. It's not that he's obsessed with her really, but more that he's in tune with her. The most annoying shit I've ever had to deal with." With deep and dangerous eyes, Malachai watched Sweet Pea, gaging his reaction to their conversation regarding him.

"I think we should maybe break the little spell, see if the pup can stand on his own for awhile, what d'ya say Sweet Pea?" Rising to his full six and half feet, Magic was only two inches taller than Sweet Pea, but he was substantially brawnier.

"Why do I always get the shit end of the stick? First it's the name, and then you grate me about being friends with Deville and now, you call me a fuckin' puppy. This is why I don't like family gatherings." Eyeing every person sat at the large table, Sweet Pea's eyes lingered over Betty's sympathetic face. Dropping his gaze immediately, he let the pang of guilt bring him back to reality.

"I think being called Sweet Pea is a little better than-" Three large fingers found their way to Betty's plumb pout, hushing her admission before she could dare to utter the boy's birth name.

"Don't even _think_ it Betts." Narrowed eyes darting from every other set in the room, Sweet Pea settled on the brilliant green in front of him.

"Sorry Sweets." Feeling guilty for almost telling his name to the others, Betty knew how he felt about his name, she should have known better.

"Mhm, not even close to bein' named Ferka brotha." With a wink, the hulking figure motioned for Charles to pour the tea, the younger boy obliged. Magic paced a few times then returned to his seat.

When every cup had steaming brown liquid inside of it, Charles sat back down, adding honey and milk to his tea, stirring it gently, watching the swirls of leaves and milky tea in the white tea cup. It seemed such a delicate thing to do, stirring tea with such a small spoon in his great Grandmother's tea set. It had always intrigued him as a boy, the way the older women from Greendale would come in droves in their Sunday best, ready to ask questions of his aging and graying Grandmother. She had sat him down young, around seven years old, and taught him to read the pictures in the soggy cup bottoms. With little regard to the others around the table, he sipped the tea, closing his eyes, remembering when his life far less complicated.

"Drink your tea however you see fit. Be thinking about what you want to know, the problems you face. When you're done, place the saucer over the top and flip the cup. While asking your question, turn it thrice, then flip the cup back over." The instructions were basic, a child could do it, if they really cared.

Malachai paid extra attention to his thoughts, he knew Magic was listening in, that was the point. Their eyes met across the table, bright blue and coal. Asking the question despite the obvious red flags in his mind, _Are you trying to take over the Southside with Hiram?_ Magic shook his head 'no', sipping from the tea cup in his massive hand.

"How come there's leaves floating in my cup and no one else has them?" With a furrowed brow, Fangs was desperately searching the tops of everyone's tea.

"I have them too Fangs chill out." Jughead shook his head, joining in the search with Fangs.

"Count them, I have twelve." Urgently Alice began counting her leaves again, and again.

"Twelve." Jughead said, mouth hanging open a little

"Twelve." Fangs looked a little scared.

"Mine has twelve as well." Magic said simply, taking another drink of his tea.

"Means there are visitors, twelve days until they arrive." Nonchalantly, Charles flipped his cup and saucer. Silently thinking of his dilemas, he questioned and spun the cup in the saucer, then flipped the cup alone over.

Alice did the same, then FP and Betty and Malachai. The sounds of porcelain scraping over porcelain was the only sounds in the room. Tea cups were being flipped over one after the other and murmuring could be heard now.

"Babyface, lemme ask you a question." Quietly, Malachai spoke as he rotated the cup in his palms.

"Shoot brotha." Looking at the numerous shapes in own cup. A sinking feeling overtook Charles as he and Malachai exchanged looks of dread.

"What would you say that clouds, a dagger and a snake mean?" Offering the cup to his oldest friend, Malachai felt the wave dread wash over him, stirring deep in the pit of his already queasy stomach.

"Wait a minute, I have something similar." Ratso leaned over from across his brother to hand Charles his cup as well.

"Send all your cups this way. Ma, could you help me?" Comparing the globs of leaves in each of the cups handed to him, the larger picture was becoming quite clear.

"They're not all the same, but similar themes are present. Someone has a spider, and someone has a dragon. Every one of them has an 'H' though. Did you keep them in order?" Alice was looking her own cup now, the obvious dagger and Letter glaring back at her.

"They're in order." Turning each cup's handle toward himself, Charles made sure to check where each picture was positioned.

"The boy knows how to read Ally. Let him figure it out." The softness in the look Magic gave Alice settled her some. She let her shoulders fall from their usual tight and upright position.

"I can see that, but I need _you_ tell me what you see." Pleading with her cousin, Alice came to stand behind her son. "Please?"

Standing, Magic huffed a little, looking from mother to son then to the tea cups. There was definite trouble coming, reflected in all of the leaves, but one cup stood out to him. Taking the delicate ivory colored cup into his hand, he rotated it. "Who's is this Charles?"

"That one is Betty's. The wheel." Charles looked to his sister, who sat up straight, knuckles turning white from how hard she gripped Malachai's hand.

"It's not bad, just means changes, growth and progress. It's directly over your handle so that means presently, you are developing this. Can I see the necklace, please?" Returning the cup to its place on the table, Magic stretched his massive palm towards Betty, who was already unclasping the skull and snake pendant from around her throat.

"I've only ever heard about this you know. When the Ghoulies and the Serpent's first formed. They were two clans among the four that settled here, near Sweetwater River. It wasn't a turf war in the beginning. No snakes versus skulls." Holding the skull up to his face, Magic let his eyes roams the smooth surfaces, of the snake slithering through the eye sockets and around the back of the skull. He could feel the pulsing energy coming off of it without even trying.

"Abuela was given the necklace by our Abuelo, it was wedding gift." Sweet Pea let it slip, he was watching the way Magics finger tips grazed the striking white of the stone.

"He was a Serpent though, Grams never said where he got it from." Malachai held on tight to Betty, she was shaking a little.

"He got it from the Jones'." No one had noticed the door creak open, they were too busy listening and watching. There in the doorway to the cabin, adorned in furs and skirts, stood an older woman.

"Grandma."


	17. Have Mercy

**Have Mercy**

 **This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale Universe.**

…~*~...

Long graying ringlets hung over the slender shoulders of Alice Cooper's aging Mother. Her ice blue eyes resembled those of her nephew, Ferka, but the hard line of her mouth was all Alice. Folding her arms in front of her, Mercy eyed the bunch sitting at her table.

Mercy Smith was a slight woman, but boy did her energy make her seem quite tall, large in fact, ominous to be exact. Her simple presence in the cabin called the attention of all parties gathered around the long wooden table; tea cups and leaves all but forgotten. FP rose from his silent calculating position toward the middle of the table. He'd slipped behind Alice, patting Ferka on the back as he passed the hulking man.

"Mrs. Smith, it's been a long time, too long. I hope our invasion of your home is not off putting." Choosing his words wisely, FP did not dare let his eyes fall from hers. A small tight fist came up to her hip, and her lips pursed in irritation as a single eyebrow flew to the middle of her forehead. It was the single most "Alice" reaction that anyone had ever seen.

"Wow. I think I've seen it all now." Ratso couldn't keep his mouth shut, even for a moment. Mercy let her eyes slide over the bodies in the dining room. Ferka had stood tall, along with Alice, they knew the scrutiny was coming.

"Young man, I do believe I told you the next time we met would be amidst most undesirable circumstances. Why is it you Jones' can't seem to believe a Pike or a Smith to save your life? Even when we've been kin for decades? Sit down Forsythe, and stop trying to flatter me." Shewing him away with her now unclenched fist, FP smiled at her, nodding his head as he returned to his seat.

"Flattery will get you nowhere." Ten voices rang out in unison. The mantra branded into their brains like cattle, the knee jerk reaction to recite the expression had them feeling a little like scolded children.

"That's right, and don't you ever forget it. Don't you worry your pretty little head about how the Cardenas Family acquired that necklace from the Jones', all in due time Malachai. Let me see those tea cups." Ferka moved from his place in front of the cups, allowing the noticeably smaller woman to stand at the table next to Charles. "Alice, you look well, we'll talk later. This one, says a lot. 'H', I'm assuming Hiram, is the enemy that brings danger. The spider is telling us there will be monetary gain if all things go to plan. I assume you planted false information for the Greendale Ghoulies and some of them took the bait. The traitors will show themselves before the enemy steps a toe out of line, in hopes that we will kill each other and he can gain control of the four corners of the County. We'll have visitors in a fortnight. Time to get prepared. Wash my china, put it away nice and neat Charles. Alice, come."

"What do we do?" The innocence teetered on the verge of idiocy, but the young Serpent asked anyway.

"You can get to sweeping young man. Manual labor will do you some good. FP ought to know better." Slender wrinkled fingers stretched out to pinch the now exposed bicep of FP Jones.

"Ouch! Son of a…" Rubbing circles over the tender flesh of his arm, FP's gaze darted from lover to mother then to the threadbare carpet he stood on. "Pardon my mouth Mrs. Smith, it won't happen again."

"It better not. See to it these boys get the wood gathered, I'm not interested in freezin' my keister." Waving a frail hand in the air as she walked, Mercy disappeared down the darkened hallway, Alice followed after.

"I've never been so scared in all my life." A sigh of relief left Jughead's mouth; eyes sliding closed for a brief moment before tugging on his beanie and opening the front door.

"You haven't seen anything yet. That's calm, collected. She'd give the Mother of Demons a run for her money. Come on, I'll show you where the wood stack is." Charles was already following after Jughead, tugging at the leather in a nervous fashion.

…*...

"How could you keep that girl from her family like that? And Polly? She's run off to that cracked nut Edgar Evernever. He was excommunicated you know, from the Church of Night. He came crawling on his hands and knees, begging me to help him learn about the clan. Crazy as a loon that one, and you let Polly leap head first into the lion's den." Worrying her lip in the dim lamp light of her bedroom, Mercy placed a hand over the necklace at the base of her throat.

"I wasn't aware that Edgar ran The Farm Mother. I never would have let Polly go." Sucking in a breath, Alice wracked her brain for any slip of a name when Polly had come to visit.

"It's no use fretting now. He's already sunk his hooks into her. You have to give Betty the crash course, herbs, protection spells, conjuring. The talisman can only do so much against dark witches Alice. Hiram has a whole brood of 'em waiting for the right time to snatch that girl up. The two that were killed, they were asking questions. I had Charles send out false intel to the Fox Clan Ghoulies and see who took the bait first. That boy has a damn fine head on his shoulders, he sought out Malachai and his Ghoulies on his own. We aren't safe here alone anymore. You won't be safe in Riverdale after this meeting either." Finally sitting on a bench at the end of her bed, Mercy looked up at her daughter, knowing full well that this was far too long a time coming.

"Oh Mom. I didn't mean to keep the girls from you. I'm sorry, I can't change it, but we can fix it now. We don't have anywhere to go. Hals brain matter is all over the floorboards in that house. Betty's as good as married as far as the Ghoulies rules go. We won't all fit up here." Scrubbing her face in her hands, Alice sat with a huff next to her Mother.

"We could all fit in the Southside. Batso will fix your house. It'll be like Hal was never there." Mercy was rubbing circles over Alice's back, the tips of her fingernails eliciting goosebumps from Alice's flesh.

Instantly relaxed, just like when she was a girl, Alice snuck a peek at her Mom. "We have an extra room, if Betty moves in with Mal, that's two extra rooms. Mrs. Cardenas has at least four. Malachai has almost as many. We have Sunnyside trailer park and the Whyte Whyrm and The House of the Dead too! That's enough dorms for almost all of the Fox Clan."

"What about this ridiculous riff between the Serpents and Ghoulies? Squashed I presume?" Raising both of her brows at Alice in questioning, Mercy waited for the confirmation.

"As of last night, one hundred percent done. The air has been cleared and purified. At least in Riverdale." Sitting up, Alice watched as her Mother packed a bag, then pulled a suitcase from under the bed.

"Help me gather my things. You'll know what's important."

…*...

The fire was crackling softly, emitting a soft amber glow over the flat pile carpet Betty sat on. She had taken to curling herself around her bent legs; a cheek pressed into her knee caps as she watched the fire dance gracefully over the split wood chunks in the hearth. They had made rabbit stew over the wood burning stove in the kitchen, gathering again around the handmade wood table. It was the single most memorable meal of her whole life. Her Grandmother had shown her how to skin the rabbit and dissect the quadrants of his small body. At first she'd felt overwhelmed with the task, but then she had eased into the process. Slicing carrots and onions, ribs of celery and large hunking pieces of potato. They tore herbs from the terracotta pots in the kitchen, snipping them with kitchen shears over the enormous bubbling pot.

Processing the night in its entirety, Betty came to the conclusion that she had missed out on far too much, she was glad her family would be an arm's length away if she chose to ask questions or learn by their hand. She would utilize their close quarters to her advantage, she'd learn and grow and be a better woman for it. A better witch.

"Hey beautiful." Quietly, Malachai had snuck into the living room, his socked feet coming into view. "Can I warm up with you?"

"Hey." Smiling brightly at him, she tugged her bottom lip in under her teeth, nodding her permission.

"I haven't stacked wood like that since I was seventeen. Tomorrow it'll be suitcases. Hopefully it ends there, and not with bodies." He'd wrapped himself around her, letting the heat from her smooth skin seep into his chilled epidermis. He'd never grow tired of how she soothed him, brought him to an entirely different perspective despite the emanate danger they all faced. He needed to relax, to let his mind go blank, drink in Betty's utter beauty.

"We'll stack them together if it comes to that. Charles has been showing me how to use a gun. I like how it feels. Runs in the family I suppose." That's what she'd been pondering; watching the flames lap at the logs in the stone hearth. How could the three of them have grown up in such drastic situations, yet they came together in the same setting. They could relive those same scenarios a million different ways under the sun and somehow, she suspected that they'd always end up together; Jughead, Babyface and Deville.

"I saw you two. You have good aim. Dre might have some competition." Rubbing his stubbled chin across the side of her face, Malachai hummed his approval as she practically melted into his side.

"That's what Sweets said too." Sweet Pea, her right hand man. She liked to think that she'd have him as her Sergeant at Arms if she were ever to gain some sort of control. Or if they somehow lost everything in Riverdale and the Southside, they'd rebuild. They often delved into serious conversation pertaining to potential fights, with the looming war ahead of them.

"About him. I'm sorry about your birthday Beautiful. I've been so high strung, and he follows you around like a puppy. Then all the shit with the girls at the House of the Dead, I didn't handle myself well. I wasn't good to you and I'm ashamed of myself." Holding her tighter, Malachai peppered kisses over Betty's face and neck, relishing the feel of her in his arms, nearly losing himself in her loamy green eyes.

"It's alright, apology accepted. I was a bit of an ass myself. I'm sorry for breaking what's her names nose, and ripping out that piece of her scalp." A small smile played at Betty's lips, she tried to hide it, but it was too late. Malachai had already seen it.

"You're such a damn liar. You're fuckin' feisty Elizabeth Cooper." His warm lips left heated pecks over her exposed ear and neck. Shivering slightly, she let her eyelids close slightly.

"I don't like that name anymore." It was a simple yet weighted statement. Something she'd mulled over at least a dozen times in the last few weeks. If she were to die at the hands of her enemies, would she want her tombstone to read that traitorous surname? She was beginning to think not.

"Which one? Elizabeth or Cooper?" His palms were roaming over her back, under her t-shirt; goosebumps forming under his long fingers. She shivered again.

"Cooper. Especially after last night, I couldn't be less enthusiastic about honoring that name." Swallowing thickly, she looked at Malachai. The glow of the fire had accentuated his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. She wanted to see him like this for the rest of her days; however few or many there were.

"Give it some time and maybe we can change it beautiful." The crook of his knuckle brought her chin up toward him.

"What if we don't have time, what if we lose everything Chai?" Her lip quivered a little, tears welling in her eyes.

"Baby girl, even if there wasn't this threat, we don't know what the future holds. I'm a better man for the time we've had together. I'm a better person for even knowing you." Wiping tears from her eyes, Malachai pulled Betty closer to him, siphoning heat from her slender body.

"I don't want to lose you." Grasping the curls at the base of his head, Betty pulled him closer.

"You won't beautiful. I'm right here." His full lips engulfed hers, relishing the way her fingers roamed the spanse of his neck, shoulders and back; he craved her touch.

"Oh jeez. Every fuckin' time I come in the room, one of yous has your tongue down the other's throat. You'd think you'd have a little more respect for Grandma's house than this." A steel toe nudged Malachi in the thigh. Which earned Charles a couple of knuckles in the shin. "Ouch! Shit! Alright, eat her fuckin' face off, whatever. Don't say I didn't warn ya."

"It's not my fault you're at the wrong place at the wrong time Babyface." Malachai tugged Betty to his torso, snaking arms around her.

"More like you two should get a room. Speaking of, looks like we're gonna be roomies, us three." Charles twisted the ring around his finger, letting his bones settle for the first time in who knows how long.

"Seems like old times. Except this time we won't get the yardstick for takin' a piss at 2AM." Malachai held out a fish to his oldest friend.

"No doubt, we won't get paddled for not eating that shit they called food either." Squinting his eyes and sticking his tongue with disgust, Charles shivered a little.

"Jesus, don't even talk about it. I can smell the mess hall from memory." Scrubbing over his face with his palms, Malachai caught Betty's inquisitive looks between her brother and himself.

"Exactly how long have you two been friends?" Arms returning to their places, wrapped around her legs, Betty waited patiently.

"That's a loaded question. Let's just say we weren't shavin' yet." Charles rubbed over the stubble covering his chin. "I think I was seven and Mal was five or some shit. Fuck." The thought was sobering for both of the boys.

"That's incredible, you know that right?" Betty smiled at them.

"Incredible, sure, if you say so. This guy is a pain in the ass Betts, total dick, and you fell head over heels for the schmuck. I think _that's_ incredible, but what do I know?" Shrugging at his younger sister, Charles winked at her as she bit her lip.

"I know it's getting late and we have a lotta people to move tomorrow. Might sleep in the bathtub tonight. For old times sake. G'night."

"Good night Charles." Betty placed a hand over his knee.

"Take a blanket this time, you nearly froze the last time. Night brutha." Malachai winked at his best friend.

Rising soundlessly from the threadbare couch of yesteryear, Charles smiled at Betty then raised a brow at Malachai before exiting the living room.

"Malachai?" Betty's voice was so low she had nearly whispered.

"Yeah beautiful?" Tucking a rogue strand of hair behind her ear, he watched her intently.

"Is Fangs going to be alright?" She'd been worried most of the day. Fangs wasn't one to get sick, but today, he'd barely made it inside the house.

"He'll be good in the morning. Fangs doesn't know too much about his people. Abuela says he was drawn to us because we share a bond. Sweets thinks it's because they might be brother's. Who knows, the kid fell ill because of the barriers around camp." Lazily running the tips of his fingers over the thin material of her shirt, Malachai let a digit slip under the hem at the small of her back. The feel of skin on skin had them both humming their approval.

"I always wondered if he wasn't related. The way him and Sweet Pea are, it's more like brothers." With the four pads of Malachai's fingers dragging deliciously over every bump of her spinal cord, Betty felt at ease. She let herself melt into Malachai's side, her head finding the crook of his neck. Eyelids suddenly feeling quite heavy, she yawned.

"Alright beautiful, time for the puppy pile." Rising from the floor, he leaned over to gather her in his arms.

"A puppy pile?" She could hear the sleep in her own voice.

"You'll see, it's how we made it during the winter at the group home. Something Charles picked up from the Sister's, to keep warm." Kissing the top of her head, Malachai pushed the door open with his toe.

Inside the room there were several worn mattresses, boys huddled under quilts laid over top the foam and springs. Betty could see how this was a puppy pile now. Another yawn escaped her as Malachai lowered her to the only bare spot left for them. Wiping at her watery eyes, she allowed her eyelids to droop closed. A warm arm held her close while a fuzzy blanket enveloped her where Malachai could not.

Instinctually, the boys shifted to include the pair into their warm and cozy midst. Betty felt the weight of the world slip from her shoulders for the first time in what felt like a year. She yawned again, leaned up to kiss Malachai's chin and hummed as she fell asleep.

"Good night beautiful." Malachai smiled in the darkness of the cabin. Sharing the puppy pile of his youth with Betty felt far too natural, it was surreal. Finally allowing himself to close his own eyes, Malachai settled into a dream filled sleep.

…*...

One by one, each Serpent and Ghoulie took boxes, trunks and bags filled with personal belongings to waiting vans that Archie and some of the others had brought out to Greendale. There were bodies moving in every direction, stacking and smashing and closing of vehicle doors and trunks. This commune hidden away from the regular world had dismantles in such a small amount of time it was almost scary. Betty helped her Grandmother out to a van that sat idling outside of her home. Malachai was seated behind the wheel waiting patiently with a cigarette resting between his lips. Squinting against the smoke that swirled up from the fiery tip, he plucked the filtered end from his mouth, pinching it between thumb and finger tip. Betty caught the way his cheeks hollowed before the smoke rose from his barely open bottom lip to one of his slightly flared nostrils. She'd seen him do this almost a hundred times and it still made her heart race.

"That boy is a damned show off, keep your head about ya Elizabeth." Mercy nudged the taller blonde in the side, gaining a healthy blush and smile from the girl.

"I know exactly what he is Grandma." Betty said quietly, eyes never leaving the temptation that was her boyfriend.

"I'm sure you do. Be careful anyhow, there are snakes in the grass, so to speak." Mercy settled into the front passenger seat, smiling knowingly at Malachai. He caught her drift, nodding in her direction when he tossed the spent cigarette out of the cracked window.

"You ready Grandma Smith?" His deep timber rang through the silence of the vehicle.

"You have no idea." She said, taking one last glance at the house she'd called home for the last fifteen years. The prickling of her eyes announced the arrival of tears. She'd been holding them back for quite some time now, swallowing harshly against the emotion that lodged itself in her throat. Tears fell freely now, lamding soundlessly on her coat front. Slender fingers swiped at the wetness covering her high cheekbones. She'd not been this upset since her Daddy told her she'd have to live in Riverdale with her Mother; she was ten. It was the last time she'd ever seen her Father, and Alice named her first born after him.

"You'll be back Grandma. I promise." Betty told her from the back seat.

"I know we will." Sending her granddaughter a watery smile, Mercy felt her spirits lighten. She _did_ know that they would be back. Not just her and Ferka and the others. With this thought swimming in her head, her spirits began to lift. The shift in her mood was felt by the other passengers. "We won't be gone long at all."

…*...

Settling into the slate grey sheets with of the California King bed, Malachai relished the contrasting temperatures of the satin and Betty's skin on his calves. They'd been helping to get others settled into their current living arrangements, forgetting that they themselves had only slept a few hours over the course of three or so days. It wasn't until Betty felt the world tilt from under her a bit that they took notice of their sleep deprivation. Fangs had a surge of energy, helping to move no less than twenty kinfolk from Greendale into the Whyte Wyrm, Sunnyside and a vacant Serpent owned apartment buildings on the Southside. The kid had woke with pep in his step and he took over for Betty and Malachai when they couldn't keep their eyes open any longer.

Ratso and Batso gave up their dorms at The House of the Dead, letting Dre take care of their fellow Ghoulies, opting to move into Malachai's house for the added protection. So here they all were, in their respective beds, finding it irritatingly difficult to fall asleep. Their lack of rest had turned into full blown insomnia. In the darkness of the room Betty shared with Malachai, they lay silent, limbs intertwined with one another's, thoughts running rampant through their minds.

"Can't sleep?" Betty asked, knowing the answer already.

"Not at all. Figures, I'm exhausted. Tomorrow won't be any different." With a sigh, Malachai tugged Betty's body closer to his own.

"Who knows, maybe we can sleep in." Trying to be optimistic, Betty tangled her fingers in Malachai's wild mop of hair. Smoothing her fingertips over his scalp, Betty shivered a little when a heated open mouth kiss was laid over her collar bone.

"I love it when you do that." His words were breathy, all consuming fire as his breath ghosted over exposed flesh.

"You need to relax. We've been going for days now. We still have to deal with my Mom's house too." Letting loose a breath, Betty felt the tension in her back ease, but only a little.

"Let the Ghoulie boys deal with that. They earn their patches just like everyone else. Batso's got it covered anyway, has color schemes and shit picked out. Him and Kev have a lunch date tomorrow. I'm sure they'll be looking at swatches until their minds turn to mush. So I have you all to myself tomorrow. And right now." Calloused fingers roamed over the expanse of Betty's abdomen. Goosebumps rising impossibly high over the entirety of her body.

"You don't even care if they hear us do you?" She asked, hastily tearing at the waistband of Malachai's boxers.

"Not even a little bit." His skilled fingers made quick work of Betty's lacy pajamas. It wasn't difficult, a teddy and a g-string weren't exactly hard to remove. Especially when he needed her like air.

"I'll try to keep it down." She whispered when she felt a muscled thigh press between her legs.

"Sure you will beautiful."

…~*~...

 _ **A.N.:**_ _Pardon my absence. Family things came and went and then resurfaced again. With impromptu trips back to Denver and personal issues stacked on top, I had to back away for a few moments. Although this chapter is short, I hope you will take it as a token of my appreciation for your support of this story. It will not be tossed to the wayside. Thank you for your patience._ _ **~S.C.**_


	18. Wordsworth

**Wordsworth**

…~*~...

 ***Several weeks later…***

"I keep giving you chances. Time and time again, you fail me." The clear male voice rang through the smoke filled air of the darkened office. "Either you get the Cooper girl and bring her to me, or you to choose between the Ruger and the Taurus. Do I make myself clear Artemis?" There was a brief pause and a creak of the chair the man sat in. "Good. Make the right choices and everything will go as planned." Slamming the phone down onto its cradle, Hiram Lodge huffed and shoved his fingers through his inky black hair.

When the Ghoulies and Hal Cooper never made their way back to Greendale with Betty, he knew something had gone wrong. Stress and aggravation tensed his shoulders and turned his stomach into knots. To make matters worse, Veronica had been gone from home for days now. She didn't answer her phone and she didn't show up to their usual dinners. Hermione acted as though it was normal, just an everyday occurrence. It most certainly was not, and had pissed him off beyond words. So here he sat, alone at the Pembroke, trying to keep up appearances that all was well with the little family. He wasn't sending thugs to bring back an untapped witch with a necklace that could rid him of all of his enemies in one fell swoop. No, he was just a concerned father, waiting up late for his boundary pushing teenage daughter.

If there were any one person he could trust with the information he mulled over on a nightly basis, he would be pouring his heart out this very second. As it were, however, he couldn't trust his own wife and daughter to come home at an appropriate time to eat a meal as a family. Rage surged from the pit of stomach to his tightened fist. Slamming his clamped hand down on the large wooden desk, several items bounced and shook, one fell backward, breaking on impact with the floor below. Slowly standing, Hiram looked over the edge, to see the framed picture of the women who he used to hold dear to his heart. As much as he could, with what little heart he had left, there wasn't much room for people. At some point he supposed he would be upset by the shattered glass perforating the picture paper; gouges deep and irreparable in the faces of the two women. He wished for just a second that he didn't wish the exact fate upon the pair this very moment. It was brief, the guilt he felt, but it was quickly swallowed whole by unnerving feeling of being watched. Impossible.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise slowly. A hand clamped over his neck when he whirled around to inspect the wall behind him. Impossible. Again, he felt eyes on him. He turned toward the open doorway, and there was nothing. Standing tall, and smoothing his jacket lapels flat, he breathed in deep, desperate to relieve himself of the eerie feelings that pressed upon his rigid spinal cord. Ignoring the mess of glass and metal and torn picture, Hiram made an exit from his home office, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him.

He would have just went down the hallway to his empty bedroom, undress and get into bed with no problem, but he couldn't. Something was nagging at him, niggling at the back of his mind, he had seen this before. Hadn't he? He had lived this series of events before, when he opened the bedroom door, she would be waiting for him, stiffly on the edge of the bed. The woman with long blond wavy hair, slight in her frame, unmoving from the spot where he usually sat and relaxed for a few moments before swinging his legs over the mattress to sleep.

Slowly, Hiram edged his way into the room, eyes fixated on the woman who never budged. Her even breathing the only indication that she was real. He inched forward, coming to stand still beside her. "What do you want? Who are you?" The words were familiar, he'd tasted them on the tip of his tongue times before. Times. This had happened several times before. Impossible.

"One thing at a time Hiram. Patience is a virtue." The tone was so familiar, from the many times he'd sewn this very thing or from another memory, he had no clue. "Stop searchin' yer mind for familiarity."

"Who are you?" He thought if he knew this woman, he could figure out her purpose in his bedroom.

"I know you already know the answer to that. Two more." Thin bony fingers came up in the space between them, index and middle. She never moved her head, stayed entirely too still for his liking.

"Two what?" He asked before thinking. Her middle finger joined the others tucked under her thumb, indicating one.

"What are you doing here?" The question came out rather quiet, more so than he wanted to admit. Swallowing harshly in the silence and darkness, Hiram Lodge took a step back. He remembered that he needed the extra room but for what he did not know.

Her head turned slowly, the waves of her hair giving way to a stark white face with milky eyes. _They used to be blue_ , he thought. As if she heard his thoughts the woman pulled her too stiff lips into a menacing grin. It was horrifying in the dim blue of the moonlight, the stretch of her wrinkled lips over the span of her teeth. God he knew her from somewhere, but he couldn't quite place it, he wracked his brain but nothing came and he would be lulled from thought by another sickening aspect of her boney frightening body in the pale light, and if her eyes weren't on the verge of dead, he might be able to come up with something, but then she spoke again.

"I could ask you the same Hiram. Your plans seem a little," She rose unnaturally fast from the bed, stiff legs and arms and torso rising without bending or folding or shifts of weight. Feeling his mouth go dry when he watched her twitchy footfalls bring her closer to him, Hiram remembered something about her. "-rushed." She whispered to him, blue hue of the moonlight making her impossibly stoney looking. His heart thudded under his armani shirt and suit jacket. If he soiled himself, he was out a lot of money, and he simply could not have that. Not right now. He'd be out even more if he pissed on the floor. Mahogany hardwoods and vintage imported European rugs, it would cost as much as his Bently in New York.

It was such a random thought, one that took him from the room almost entirely. So when she snaked her fingers swiftly around his tie and yanked him forward, he was still calculating the bill for this mishap.

"Don't worry, this will be quick Hiram. You won't feel a thing." With freezing clammy fingers and balmy palms over either side of his face, she looked at him with glossy white eyes, in a face he knew so well. That sweetheart shaped face he'd seen at a sit down once, in a town far from this one. A rinka dink hobunk blip on his high end radar. She had agreed to their meeting, begrudgingly albeit, but she agreed. He'd studied her imperfect features nestled in her too small face on her slight little body. He'd wondered briefly how she'd looked in her youth, if she was at all attractive. Here in this room, under the scrutiny and weight of her milky white eyes, with her slender spindly fingers on either side of his head, he let those thoughts fall to the wayside. This was not the time to ponder whether the woman was worth bedding in the days of his youth and bountiful "Mrs. Robinson" esque conquests. Rational thought finally made an appearance, and he suddenly felt the need to let the piss run down his leg, soaking his loafers and thus the ancient rug beneath the soles of his feet.

"What are-" He gasped, desperately trying to escape her now. "Why-" With tears streamed down his face and snot bubbling from his nose when she began to twist his skull with unimaginable strength. One last thought came bounding past his lips with the spray of saliva misting the air that hung thick between them. The word gurgled in the back of his throat, mixing with the mucus and tears that had streamed into his open mouth. It barely escaped when the rusty copper taste of blood that filled the soft palate just behind his uvula. "How-" **CRACK!**

Lifeless teary eyes stared back at her now amidst the blood tinged spittle spewing from his mouth agape, and she smiled again, letting his body fall in a heap at her bare feet. "I said you had three Hiram. Not a _bountiful plenty_. Remember that when you wake up." Stepping over him in the same jerking stiff motion, her gown rolled over the top Hiram Lodge.

…*...

"For the love of all things holy, what are you two doing now?" Alice had come down to the pristine white kitchen to fetch her tea before bed. They'd all been living quite cozy in Riverdale for nearly a month now. With the renovations to her house now complete, Alice was in the best of spirits. Charles and Mercy sat at the island counter, tea cups in their midst and various herbs strewn about. The smoke from the incense burner wafted in smooth circles around the kitchen.

"Teaching Charles how to mettle with unconscious thought." Winking at her eldest grandchild, Mercy sipped noisily from her tea cup.

"Dream play?! Mother! You didn't ask me if I wanted to join?" A small fist on her hip and a raised eyebrow from Mercy then to Charles, Alice huffed indignantly.

"It was just a little Mom. We didn't hurt anyone too bad. He'll wake up just fine." A smear of crimson splashed over Charles' cheeks and nose, making his spattering of freckles quite apparent. Mercy knew this wasn't a dream Alice could be involved in. If Hiram recognized Alice, he would surely know that the Serpents and Ghoulies had struck a truce, foiling Hiram's plans to wreak havoc on the Southside. Or so they hoped.

"Right. Must be someone that knows me. Hmmm, I wonder who it could be. Was he wearing Versace or Armani?" Leaning over the white marble counter, Alice waited for an answer

"Armani, I do believe. At least that's what he was thinking. He was more concerned about the cleaning bill if he shit himself than the fact that Grandma was sitting in his bed." Charles was laughing now. A hearty chortle just like his father's. Alice smiled at the sound.

"He was speaking with Artemis when we first came 'round. The two faced little shit. I knew he wasn't worthy of a foxtail. Greendale deserves better than a snitch and sneak." Mercy's arms crossed in anger over her chest. White ruffled sleeves bunching in tufts around her small wrists.

"You broke his neck didn't you Ma?" Feeling a little giddy at the thought of watching the light leave Hiram's eyes. No matter how fake it really was. With a tad bit too much excitement in her motions, Alice took a tea cup from the tray, then poured herself some tea from her Mother's pot. Watching the dark liquid run over the pristine white of the cup, she remembered the tea leaves in Greendale.

"He wanted a meeting, I hated to do it, but I sat with him. We were to meet at his fancy little apartment in New York. He wanted me to know that he held status and money over me. That he could buy what he wanted, including Betty." Mercy looked down at her crossed arms, feeling ashamed for meeting with the jerk in the first place. "But, Firka thought it might be dangerous. So we met at Al's in Greendale, just off the railroad tracks. The audacity of that man, in his pin straight perfectly tailored suit, sizing me up from the moment he stepped foot outside the limo. He was trying to read me like Harlequin novel, thought me a tarte!" A scowl was firmly planted on Mercy's face as she relives the moment she met Hiram Lodge.

"Hiram has always been a little shit Mom, he just has people on a payroll now. He doesn't know we have his daughter. She joined the Serpents a few weeks back. She's been staying next door with Archie, also a Serpent." Alice drained her cup, watching her son out of the corner of her eye. He had taken his phone from his pocket, grimace firmly rooted on his face, and started typing away on the keyboard. "What is it?" Alice wasn't trying to pry, but the furrow of Charles brow, and the way he tensed as he typed had her worried. Then he looked up at her, blue eyes welling with tears.

"Grab your bags. Time to go." Standing abruptly, Charles said nothing more, he helped his grandmother from her seat, guiding her to the stairs so she could change. She hadn't unpacked yet anyhow, so she would be ready to leave at a moment's notice.

"Who was it Charles?" Alice's face was etched with worry.

"Dad. He said Hiram called for a meeting between the Serpents and Ghoulies. We need to have you both protected. If Hiram did this after the dream, he knows about Grandma's move." Taking hold of Alice, Charles hugged her to him. He wanted to cry, to scream. He didn't know how they'd gotten to this point. One second he was asking about his parents, next thing he knew they were burying bodies and casting protection spells. Shooting a text off to Archie next door, Charles rummaged through the coat closet for his spare hand guns, snagging the amount boxes whilst he rummaged for a moment.

"You've got everything Charles?" Nodding yes, Charles bent down to tuck a pistol into the top of his boot. "Alright. I'll be down in a few." Kissing his forehead, Alice wiped at the stray tear that fell over her cheek. "It's going to be alright baby boy. Your Father is a force to be reckoned with. You'll see."

…*...

Betty came to when Malachai bolted upright in the bed next to her. The dark room illuminated only by the blinding white light of the phone screen, it was the harsh glow against his angered face that made her stomach churn. Something was wrong. Holding the duvet to her naked chest, Betty sat up, snaking her head around Malachai's arm to see what he was reading.

"What's going on?" She asked sleepily, squinting against the light of the phone, catching words here and there.

"Hiram wants a meeting. He knows the Fox Clan Ghoulies left the mountain. He's demanding day break at the Pembroke." Handing Betty the phone, Malachai sprang from the bed, thumb wrestling with the roller switch of the bedside lamp. Finally the lamp came to life, warm light spread over the dark room immediately easing Betty's strained eyes. Rummaging through his drawers, he grabbed one of his only pairs of boxer briefs that he owned and slipped them on. His heart was racing, fully awake and ready for a fight, he slammed the dresser drawer shut in his haste to leave the house, effectively knocking over candelabras in the process.

"How is the Pembroke neutral? Shouldn't it be Pop's or Sweetwater River or something? Surely that's not fair. He could have guards hiding, waiting to do you and FP in without a blink of an eye." She stood from the bed, tossing the phone aside. Making her way toward Malachai, she slipped her arms around his bare waist, hoping the skin to skin contact would help to calm his nerves. "I can't lose you Chai." Wrapping his own arms around her, he kissed the crown of her head.

"You're not gonna lose me beautiful. Just have a little faith in us. We aren't accepting the terms of the meeting place. FP is already on it. I need you to go to the Whyte Wyrm with Sweet Pea, he's on his way. Charles is bringing your Grandma to the House of the Dead. I wish we were all together, but what else can we do? Hurry up, get dressed." Tilting her chin up with his large hands, Malachai looked her in the eyes, then kissed her urgently. The sweep of his tongue over her lips had tears burning behind both of their eye lids. "I love you Betty."

"I love you too Malachai. So much." Then they were silent, flitting across the room to get dressed, gathering duffle bags and shoes, a race against the clock for their lives.

…*...

"This is where you wanted to meet? A Serpent owned diner, and you thought my meeting place was out of line." A disgusted look spread over Hiram's face, a gloved finger dragged itself over the laminate table top in front of him. Lifting the finger to his eye view, inspecting it for any offending substance. A smug look of disregard replaced the disgust when there was nothing on his finger.

"This establishment is not Serpent owned. Pop Tate is not affiliated with us at all." FP sat back, elbow resting the booth top next him. Malachai sat silent, cigarette resting between his index and middle fingers, smoke swirled up and around his half gloved hand, the tips of the leather gloves were missing. Hiram noted the image, seeing as it reminded him of John Bender in The Breakfast Club. It made him chuckle to himself, the similarities between the two were uncanny.

"What's so funny Mr. Lodge?" Malachai asked, still leaning into the booth back, inhaling deeply on his cigarette, praying the burning in his lungs would calm his nerves, but there was no salve for this type of wound. He'd began to shake a bit before Hiram had shown at their meeting time, wondering if stray bullets would spray the diner front and effectively remove them from the game entirely.

"Oh nothing, just something that caught my eye. Your fingerless gloves, they're akin to John Bender's. A lot about you is similar in fact. And this," A finger rose from Hiram's hand, then swiveled in the space beside his head. "is in fact Serpent owned. Please don't try to pull the wool over my eyes."

"First of all, we have no record of a Serpent owning this diner, if it is, that's news to me. Second, The Breakfast Club Hiram, really?" FP had not changed positions once since they sat down. He gave the Ghoulie King a once over, then settled his stare back on Hiram Lodge. "I guess the kid could pass for him in a dark alley, but that's neither here nor there." FP reached for his pack of smokes in the breast pocket of his leather. The creak of the jacket had Hiram's eyes going wide as saucers. The mafia man was truly alarmed by the abrupt movement, and Malachai, _took note of that._

"Besides comparisons between me and a fictional fucking character, could you please explain the false affiliation of this establishment and the Serpents, Sir? I haven't got all day. Some of us actually _work_ for a paycheck." Stubbing the spent butt out in the glass diner ashtray, Malachai sat up right. Folding his hands on the table top in front of him.

"Well," Clearing his throat, Hiram did his best to hide the uneasy feelings he was now harbouring. "- as you know, my daughter has gone missing. She holds ownership of this establishment, not Pop Tate."

"Hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me that your little girl owns Pop's? That stuck up little mafia princess?" Malachai watched the anger and frustration mar the features of the man across from him. He was pushing buttons and Hiram was desperate to keep his cool. He didn't want to chance being shot in the back or drinking arsenic in his coffee.

"She's no mafia princess. Not anymore. Not since she whored her way into the Serpent's. You honestly thought I wouldn't find out FP? I have my men searching Archie's house as we speak." With a satisfied smirk on his face, Hiram crossed his arms over his puffed out chest. Then FP smiled, the rise and fall of his brows had Hiram a little worried. This was not the reaction he had hoped for. Mouths dropping to the table maybe, uncertainty regarding their young Serpent affiliates wellbeing, but there was only a chuckle under FP's breath and a long hard pull and hollowed cheeks staring back at him. Still smirking, the shorter man diverted his glare from the Serpent King to the Ghoulie King. Malachai waited until the self proclaimed Mafioso gave him his full attention. Their dark eyes locked across the table top. Malachai leaned over the laminate, his hands still clasped in front of him. The smile that was offered to Hiram damn near made him want to cry out for backup, to run guns blazing from the tiny diner and to the safety of his car waiting outside. Just a small look out of the window, he tried to calculate just how far he'd get if he made a break for it now.

The smile slid slowly from Hiram Lodge's face, he'd never been so unsure of himself in all of his days. He couldn't look away from Malachai now, the boy was more menacing in his demeanour, volatile and strange. His eye twitched with the ferocity when Hiram inhaled audibly. Then the room was totally still, and all he saw was Malacahi, leaning over the table, black inky eyes boring into him.

"Your guys are dead Mr. Lodge. Your apartment building has been taken. As far as this being a Serpent owned establishment, not even close, maybe have a better source next time, one that doesn't spill your secrets behind closed doors. Those deeds you hold in your coat pocket, they're null and void. If you think for one second I didn't cover my bases, you're _dead. Wrong_." His voice was clear and precise. He never moved, never stopped smiling, then the room was whole again. FP still smiling in the booth directly across from him, next to Malachai. Hiram was almost spinning at this point, he wanted to let loose his breakfast on the checkered floor. Who would betray him to those low life good for nothing Ghoulies? Who did he have in his mists that would tell such incredible secrets. He racked his brain, it was so similar to his dream. The beads of sweat welling up over his creased brow, and the way her fidgeted in his seat; pristine pressed pants feeling slightly damp against the vinyl seat covering. He had to swallow down hard against the bile rapidly rising in his pained throat.

"How- how could you have known, and I will have you know, my men are well trained young man, well trained. You ought to have some respect for those you emulate. You're just a punk running the diseased streets of a dying town." He didn't want to give away that he was truly worried now, although the sweat free falling from the ridge of his brow did it for him. A single droplet fell flat and heavy on his jacket lapel. A long tanned finger ran from Hiram's hairline to the tip of his nose. Rubbing the pad of his forefinger with his thumb, Malachai watched as the moisture disappeared between his digits. Then Malachai slammed his fist on the table, the glasses and ashtray jumped with force, Hiram reacted much the same as the dinnerware.

"You say she whored her way into the Serpent's? We don't traffic Hiram, nor do we own brothels. The only brothel I know of his Lodge Industries owned and operated. Or was I mistaken when Madam Blossom took up in Greendale?" FP, unphased by Malachai slamming his fist on the table top, leaned forward, elbows firmly at his sides and hands tucked away in his jacket pockets.

"She did the dance FP and my businesses are none of your concern." Swallowing thickly again, Hiram fidgeted noticeably in his seat.

" **MY FAMILY IS NONE OF YOURS!** " FP's voice rose over the clattering in the kitchen and the whole diner went still, deadly silent. "You self centered son of a bitch. You come here and try to buy out the whole town, including your own daughter. Then you decide more power is the key to your happiness, in the form of Betty Cooper. It wasn't enough her father was hooked on jingle jangle, that you supplied, but now you want to own her for your selfish personal gain. Not on my watch old friend. Not ever." FP jabbed a finger into the table top, josling the coffee mug beside it.

"What do you care about Veronica or Betty? They're just pawns. Veronica owns shares and properties so I don't get audited. Betty harbors real untapped power that could level the playing field and make us a lot of money. It's not my fault you can't see potential beyond the trailer park and your sorry excuse for a bar FP. Now explain to me about my men, Veronica and the deeds." Hiram spat angrily in Malachai's direction.

"Wouldn't you like to know. Go ahead, call one of your men." Malachai flipped his zippo to life on his pants pocket, bringing the flame to the cigarette between his lips.

Hiram Lodge took his phone out, tapped on a contact and put the phone to his ear. It rang several times, until someone answered.

"Hello?" The voice was loud and brash. Hiram looked confused.

"Hello, I'm looking for Art." There was a chuckle from the other end, then silence.

"Artemis can't come to the phone right now. We cased him in lye already, so it's not even an option." The voice laughed, then the line went dead.

"What the hell did you do?" Hiram thundered at the men before him. His fists shaking beside his head.

"Not a whole lot, just took out six suits at the Andrews Residence. Probably twenty or more at The Pembroke. Not a big deal when you think about it. You have so many more waiting for your phone call." FP drank from the unmolested coffee mug beside his pack of cigarettes. His blue eyes bore into Hiram, wishing to peel the flesh the man's face with his bare hands, but sipping tepid coffee would have to do for now.

"Are you insane? You're telling me your Serpent hooligans took out no less than 30 men in a matter of fifteen minutes? I'm sorry fellas, but I don't buy it. Simply cannot be done. Not without man power." Realization hit him as the words fell from his mouth. Hiram's wide eyes met FP's then Malachai's, mouth agape with shock and awe. "Mercy."

"Well, she was part of it." FP stuck his finger in the air, waving for a refill from Pops.

"Veronica was the other part." Malachai watched the crease between Hiram's eyes turn into a fissure, then he went slack jawed. Chuckling to himself, Malachai went on. "And Betty."

"Betty? So using witches for personal gain is wrong when I want to do it, but it's fair game when your lot sees fit?" Folding his hands on the table before him, Hiram knew this would likely be the last time he visited Pop's Choc' lit shoppe.

"It's different when the witch in question makes the decisions herself. See, Betty's been training with the oldest brujos and brujas in this town." Malachai spoke quietly, watching the dark liquid being poured into their mugs. Pop left a slice of chocolate cake on the table for him. He smiled at the hulking slice of bitter chocolate and sweetness.

"I suppose your ancestral interest was piqued, you are a Cardenas afterall." Hiram tried to lift the coffee mug to his rapidly drying mouth, shaking violently, the liquid fell in little splashes on the table before him.

"Are you Wordsworth or something Mr. Lodge? My ancestral interest? What do you know about family anyway? Yours ran off and left you. Not even a second look. Not at you, or the money you claim is so precious." Pressing the side of a fork into the soft chocolate frosting, Malachai laughed a little to himself. "Fucking Wordsworth. You know what I mean Mr. Lodge?"

"I don't believe I-" Clearing his throat, Hiram inhaled deeply then began again. "I don't believe I understand Malachai."

"That's alright, it'll come to you. Eventually." Shaking his head, Malachai took a bite of chocolate cake from the fork tines and let his eyes roll back in his head. "Mmm. My God! So good!"

"Can you hurry this up, some of us have to work for our paycheck." Sarcastically reciting Malachai's previous words, Hiram did his best to fold his arms over his chest without nervously tipping the coffee mug over. He was unsuccessful as the coffee sloshed and spilled into the saucer where the cup was nestled.

Stopping abruptly, swallowing the cake piece nearly whole, Malachai went stone faced. Black eyes roamed over Hiram Lodge's body, reading his form like a schematic for wiring in an old car. He seen the twitch of the brow, and the sweat forming heavily over Hiram's lip. A hint of body odor tinged the air between the three, and FP caught on to what was going on. He too began scrutinizing the schmuck that had tried to run them both out of their homes.

"Why don't you take that phone back out and call your wife." Another bite slid carefree into Malachai's waiting mouth.

"Why would I do that?" He was already pressing the dial button before he realized what he was doing. Fear glazed over his eyes, while his mouth fell open in disbelief. "What's going on?" He asked in desperation.

"You see, we have leverage over you. You don't like that, and we don't care. Two more Hiram." FP drained his mug and turned the cup upside down on his saucer.

The ringing on the other end of the line ceased, and Hermione's familiar voice wafted through the ear piece, easing his tension only a fraction.

"Hello?" She asked, monotone and disappointed.

"Hermione, mi amor. Where are you?" His eyes darted from leather to denim, neither man looked too concerned about his condition nor the response he was getting from his wife.

"I'm on the Southside Hiram." Again with her unsettling distance and aggravating emotionless dull tone, she went on. "Took my share from the bank account. Signed my properties over to the Smith's and the payout was substantial Hiram. I hope you don't mind, Malachai owns Pops now."

Eyes wide as saucers, Hiram looked at the young man closest to the window. His heart hammered mercilessly in his chest, if he wasn't an avid runner and gym goer, he might think he was having a heart attack.

"You see, Mayor McCoy signed off on of the divorce papers last week, but you couldn't be bothered with them. So I had Artemis get you to sign all of the documents I needed. You never care what he says or needs, and it was just a wave of your hand and he was out the door, signatures in place on the appropriate dotted lines. Hiram you should really pay more attention." Then the line went dead. He dropped the cellular device noisily on the laminate table top.

"How did this happen?" His eyes welled with tears as he noticed a blonde leather and spike clad man dragging Andre's bloody body from the driver side door of the black stretch limo out front. He recognized the guy instantly, sliding across the booth seat to stare out of the window into the parking lot. There were no signs of life reside the Ghoulie with a fox tail bringing the lifeless corpse of his driver and assassin up the front steps of the diner. The bell dinged and Pops greeted the man warmly from his post behind the counter.

"Mal, Dad. Does this belong to you Mr. Lodge?" The tall broad blonde tossed Andre's body on the floor beside the booth and stepped over him. Sliding into the booth next Hiram, he waved a single finger in the air, signaling for Pops to bring coffee his way.

"Taking out the trash are we?" FP asked, patting the young man on his shoulder.

"Mm, something like that." Stamping out a stubby cigarette butt in the ashtray, Charles nodded at the crumpled mess of a man next to him.

"Wait. It can't be." Hiram sat, huddled against the window. The cool from the window pane a stark contrast to the heat that was radiating through his shaking body.

"Ah! Be careful Hiram, you only have one now." Charles wagged a finger in front of his face. Not a single ounce of emotion on his face. A face he recognized almost immediately, and he knew he'd messed up now. No turning back from this.

"Babyface. Mercy's Babyface." Hiram said, it was a fact. Not a question. A tear streamed down the angular plane of Hiram's face. No longer sweating, but shivering from the fear that riddled his rapidly deteriorating demeanor.

"Yeah! You remembered this time. Lucky me." Pops was at the table now, pouring hot steaming water into the mug. Charles took a sachet of herbs from the sideways zipper pocket of the front of his jacket. Hiram watched intently. Afraid they were going to do him in right here, right now.

"I prefer tea, this here's a home blend. A family recipe you see." Charles looked over at Hiram now, a bit of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "Would you like some?" Pops appeared with a second mug, steam rising from the rim, and the thought of some herbal tea really made Hiram sit up quick.

The scraping sound of the nose empty cake plate caught Hiram's attention. Watching intently as Pop reached across the table and took hold of the edge of the white stoneware plate, Hiram swallowed audibly. He felt so dry and stiff, and heavy. He'd never been so uncomfortable in all of his life.

"Are you alright Hiram? He looks a little green, doncha think FP?" It was the first time that Pop Tate spoke. Hiram hadn't heard that voice in so long. He tried to sift through the dense fog of his memories, and he came up blank. There was too much right now, to go through and pluck the memory of their last encounter from the recesses of his sluggish mind.

"I feel dry." Hiram said with a smack of his lips, reaching out toward the spare mug on the table. "So very dry." Then he drank deeply of the tea. It was sweet and floral over his heavy tongue. He could almost imagine the rose hips drying slowly in a bundle over time. Then the orange peel, bitter and sweet all at the same time. Waking him up a little was a subtly minty taste on the tip of his tongue. Savoring the gulp before he forced it down his unwilling throat, Hiram settled into the booth again. He felt like a boy again. When his Abuela would watch him for long periods of time over winter break from school. She'd make him arroz con leche and picadillo, he'd miss this for the rest of his life. Then he sat up.

"I'm hungry." He said, to no one at all. Pops was on it though, bringing Hiram a piping hot bowl Tchaka. It was familiar and foreign all at the same time. It seemed to ease the stress in Hiram's shoulders, and he hovered slightly over the bowl. Shoveling spoonfuls of meat and hominy into his wanton mouth, making inexcusable noises of pleasure with no regard to the patrons or staff of the establishment he sat.

"This is delicious Pop. Thank you." Hiram said without thinking. He was doing that a lot lately, and acting on impulse instead of thinking things through. He didn't care, so he ate until there was nothing left. Then be sat back into the seat back, belly full and hands on the table. "I'm tired."

The three men exchanged looks, then Charles rose from his place next to Hiram and offered him a hand. "I'll help you out buddy."

Without thinking, Hiram took the hand in front of his face, his heavy body slid slowly out of the booth. When he stood he nearly stepped on Andre, causing him to jump back a little. "Oh no, I forgot about Andre. How will I get home?" He whirled around and looked and Malchai then at FP, both watching him intently.

"I said I gotcha buddy. Don't worry about Andre, he's off duty anyway. See?" A large leather boot tapped Andre's thigh. There was no movement. And Hiram simply shook his head in understanding. "Come on. Let's get you home." Without another word, Charles hand Hiram walking out of Pops and down the front steps, entering the waiting car in the parking lot.

Malachai put his phone to his ear, eyes never leaving the car that contained a very bewitched and befuddled Hiram Lodge. "It's done. House of the Dead in thirty." The call was done before Pops made another appearance at their table. He had stepped over Andre yet again and sat across from FP.

"Thank you for your help Pop. We couldn't have done it without you." FP reached a hand out to the older gentleman. Pop took it, shaking firmly and letting go.

"You're welcome FP. I knew that recipe my Grandmother gave me would come in handy someday. I just didn't know when." Lowering his head, Pop tried not to look at the lifeless body at his feet. The body of a man who once pistol whipped him for asking him to please refrain from putting his fingers in the saucers. A man that terrified his children and groped his wife in their own home. He wanted to feel something other than glee at the sight of the bloody tear in his throat, but he couldn't. The sight almost made him giddy.

"Like I told you Pop, you're more like family to me than some of my own. I promised I'd take care of you, and I did." Malachai slid a large manilla envelope toward the smiling man across from him. Their eyes met briefly and Pop opened the flap of the folder immediately.

"Mal, this is a lot." A tear shown in his eye, but he wiped at it quickly.

"It's not enough old friend." FP answered for them both, because he had made a contribution to the tired old man as well.

"From both of you?" Pop Tate asked with emotion present in his vocal cords. "You both did this?"

"Not a big deal, the least we could do. We thought about more, but you have that whole honorable thing going on. So we gave you back The Choc 'lit Shoppe and some padding to keep your family afloat for awhile." Malachai said, trying to keep his own tears at bay. He loved Pop like he was his Father and it felt damn good to give him back what was wrongfully taken from him.

"No, this is more than enough. Thank you both." Then he rose from the booth, taking one last look at Andre, soaking in his own blood and filth on the floor. "Make sure you send his jewelry to be melted down. My nephew will handle things discreetly." Then Pop Tate disappeared behind the swinging door to the stairs that descended to the basement.

"Come on FP, we have some heavy lifting to do." Patting his comrade on the back, Malachai motioned toward the floor.

"Maybe you should have told them an hour. We could have caught a shower and a smoke before this meeting." FP looked back at Malachai who was contemplating his minor infraction.

"We could always let the kiddies do it." He thought about it, and it was sounding sweeter by the moment.

"We could at least get the meat sack into the trunk." They nodded in agreement and got to work. "How much jingle jangle did you give Hiram anyway? He was practically hallucinating."

"Not much, he's got a speedy metabolism, and that wasn't hallucinations, it was all the jingle jangle. Works everyone over differently." Malachai was flipping the body over, so they clean up the floor and get Andre wrapped before he spent some time in the trunk.

"Huh. Good to know."


	19. Season Of The Witch

**Season Of The Witch**

…~*~...

The earth was frozen under heavy gum soled boots; the crunching of frost covered leaves and twigs was the only sound that surrounded them. Plumes of heated breath rose from their mouths and nostrils into the atmosphere above the barren trees they had woven through. They had been roaming the thick forests for awhile now, checking for any sign of infiltration, spies, traps and the like. It had been quiet for most of their trek, it was too cold to hold hands, so they stayed close together.

"You think F.P. and Mal made a mistake?" Chancing a glance at the stoic figure beside her, Dre huffed when her question was met with a deep sigh and a head shake.

"I dunno babe, this whole deal is giving me bad vibes. That shit they pulled at Pop's the other night was risky. It could have gone in a different direction. If Abuela and Pops hadn't of been there, I just don't know." Fil dug around in his leather pocket for his pack of smokes, the creaking of cold leather filled the now obvious space between them.

"You have to give the Ghoulies a little more credit than that. We aren't meddling idiots Filemon, some of us were raised in the old ways. In the home, with the sisters." Dre looked around them in the forest, amidst the dense trees and brown leafy ground cover.

"I give credit to no one, not even to the coven leader." Pushing the smoke from his nostrils, he felt a hole being burned in the back of his head, he paid it no mind. Not in these woods. He'd been taught better. With all of the evil eyes his Abuela had forced from people over the six decades of her reign, he knew never to doubt what she had taught them.

A shiver ran down Dre's spine when she looked up from her spot on the ground before her. "Do you feel that?"

"I feel it, probably nothing, just keep lookin' forward." Tapping her arm with his gloved hand, the smoke swirled around them. She looked back at him, wanting nothing more than to be in the privacy of one of their dorms, not making the rounds at the Greendale compound. Not being followed by the unseen and unheard entity that followed them every step of the way, never showing itself.

"Watcher in the woods perhaps?" She knew it was a long shot, especially with him, especially in these woods.

"Give me a break Dre, that's a myth. An old wives tale." He laughed to himself when he flicked the spent cherry of the cigarette off the end of the filter and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

"Whatever Fil, your Abuela is a bruja and the Watcher is a tall tale?" They had reached the top of the hill they were hiking just in time to see the wisp of white and grey disappear behind the first cabin. "Oh come on! You had to have seen that!"

"Yeah, I seen it, but I'm not reading too much into it. I don't know what kind of wards Mrs. Smith put on this place. With her not being here, who knows what she has out here to keep intruders out." Putting his arm around her shoulders, Fil pulled Dre close to him, deciding to answer her question from earlier. "Nothing is gonna get us unless my stupid brother and F.P. fuck things up. They won't though, because too much is riding on their success. Come on baby, let's finish this ground check and head to town for a burger."

"Alright, that sounds good, but I still think there's a Watcher in the woods."

…~*~...

Hiram Lodge sat silent in his office, looking forward, not even his breathing could hinder the rigidity of his spine. The last time he was here, he was on the phone to Artemis, finalizing the apprehension of the Andrews boy, his daughter and of course, Betty Cooper herself. He knew nothing of this in this particular moment. He was complacent and blissfully unaware. Pop Tate and his family, among others, were part of the four founding clans of the region where Riverdale was so blessed to reside. His family was one of many that used their craft to concoct delicious confectionaries and pourages to heal and protect their clans; unbeknownst to Hiram Lodge.

So, thanks to Pop and his handcrafted serums and syrups, the play for Betty Cooper and The Town With Pep had been fumbled this time. No longer were the thugs in suits and ties descending the high rise apartments and Country Clubs to enslave the working classes of Greendale, Riverdale, Centerville and the surrounding areas. In their stead, there were hoodied, leather jacketed and cloaked figures roaming the streets in discretion and silence. Lingering scents of burning herbs and resins were left in their wake, and the towns seemed to be a little bit quieter than usual.

"I'm thirsty." Hiram smacked his dry lips, letting his pink tongue ran over his lips as he sat completely still. "I need something to drink."

"Not yet." A quiet voice came from across the desk, full of emotion.

"When? I'm dry." Again he smacked his lips. Basic human emotion and understanding, it was unnerving to watch, to be a part of. The tiniest bit of regret stung deep within her heart.

"A few more minutes." A tear slipped past her lashes, plopping in a large splatter on her lap. The tear was warm at first, then it quickly turned cold. It was similar to their relationship. It was all lavish gifts and heated moments around corners at first, then there was harsh grabs on the arm and stern looks amidst their dinner guests. She didn't know how they'd gotten to this point, how he was so loving and kind one moment then a complete monster the next, but he'd always been this way. Swallowing thickly, she patted the moist skin just under her eye.

"When?" He asked, just as expected, just as he'd done for the last several days in captivity. Wiping furiously at her tears now, she cleared her throat to answer.

"Soon enough, just relax for now." She couldn't look at him, it made her sick to see him in this state, to know she had been partially responsible for this. It was a means to an end, a way out of the inevitable war that would lead to casualties and a town turned to rubble with the snap of his fingers. It was the only way.

"Okay." He smacked again, and sat straight as a pin in his high backed swivel chair. Not a care in the world aside from his preoccupation with eating and drinking.

The vibration from her coat pocket nearly made her jump. Shaking herself free from the icy chill that ran down her spine, she took her phone from her pocket, answering it.

"Yes." She was short in her answering, and a little more emotion bled into her tone than she would have liked. "He's calm, quiet."

Watching Hiram sit stoney still sent a sickly chill through her heart, fearing for herself in this moment. If she betrayed them in any way, she'd know nothing, be nothing. She couldn't help but stare at her former husband. If she would have been an outsider, she'd have thought him to be a stellar wax figure from Las Vegas, but alas, he was not. He was simply bewitched, voodoo stew and brilliantly made elixirs kept Hiram Lodge from understanding fully what was happening to him. It was sick and incredible all at once, when she felt the knot tighten deep in the pit of her stomach as she slipped the phone into her pocket wordlessly.

There was a drink beside his freshly made dinner, with a swift motion she tipped an amber vial over the top of the fine crystal goblet. Hiram's eyes watched intently when she pushed the tray toward him. He was dry after all, so he would likely drink first.

"Listen closely." Her sweet voice rang out sternly in the silent room. Hiram's wide eyes found hers as he awaited instructions. "Drink _half_ of your tea, then eat your food. When you've finished with supper, drink the rest of your tea. _Every last drop._ Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am. Half of my tea, all of my supper, then the rest of my tea." He was so mindless, she felt guilty when he licked his lips. It nearly ate her alive when she stood from the high backed chair she knew all too well.

"Very good. When the door shuts as I leave, you will remember that it's nearly Christmas, you plan to spend the next day packing and going back to the City. Nevermind Hermione and Veronica, they won't want to ice skate in the park, nor will they wish to visit the restaurants nearby. You're simply moving forward. Don't forget, you left Hermione the suite at the Pembroke. She's happy there. You want her to be happy." A tear slid down her cheek, it was vile, the way this made her feel. She knew he'd have her head in a heartbeat if they hadn't have done this.

She knew he wouldn't look twice when his henchmen blew her brains out on the forest floor and dug a shallow grave to throw her lifeless corpse in. It would mean nothing to him, a minor inconvenience amidst his strategic schedule. So why did she waver in the doorway? Because she'd given him 20 years of herself, no questions asked. Yet he'd yanked the carpet out from under her any chance he got. They were made of different cloth, and they had both known it for many years. With one last glance at the man she had held on a pedestal, she shook her head and closed the door.

In the foyer of the suite, Hermione smiled hesitantly to herself, picked up the suitcase she'd packed for a few days and left through the suite door. When the latch clicked behind her, she let loose the breath she was holding. Swiftly she walked into the elevator, Hermione took note of the Fox Clan Ghoulie that took position as the elevator operator for this occasion. She smiled at him graciously when he pressed the ground floor button.

When the doors slid open, there was an older gentleman standing at the front desk. He looked so similar to Pop Tate, he had to be close family. She smiled and left through the front door, there was a car waiting to take her back to Greendale. There was a lovely Bed and Breakfast there that she had become fond of. She felt it appropriate to stay there until Hiram left. It was Fox Clan owned and operated. They could keep an eye on her and make sure she wasn't two timing them. This way they all won. So she sat quietly watching the powdery flurries pile around the tree tops as they flew past on their way to safety. There was a soft tune wafting from the radio, wishing she could hear the song a little more clearly, she turned in the driver's direction. Before she could utter a single word, the man looked at her in the rearview, a large shovel of a hand rising to the volume knob, a single digit pushing it to the right. Her mouth fell open as she gawked at the hulking fiery haired man before her. How could he have known that she wanted the radio turned up? It was simply not possible.

"It's not possible when the normal limits of the average mind are boxed in and precise. I've expanded my horizons as per my gifted parameters ma'am. If you know nothing of witches, then you should take the opportunities afforded you in the next several days to brush up on what you are now a part of. And no, no its not simply mind reading." He watched her intently for a moment then slid his gaze back toward the road they were speeding down.

How in the world could he have known what she was thinking if it wasn't merely mind reading? His voice was deep and penetrating. Almost as if he was inside of her head with her. She shivered a little then turned her attention back to the snow zooming past the window. She did her best not to think about the hulking man and how his voice was alluring in a way she'd never imagined it would be. Then her thoughts ran rampant, wandering to long cold winter nights in those deep dense woods of the compound, nothing but the fire and layers and whiskey to keep them warm. Briefly she thought of sitting encompassed by that bear of a man in front of a hearth sipping spiked hot chocolate and exchanging stories and musing over their work. Although, she thought, he'd more likely drink whiskey from a flask. Just what would that be like, to be in the presence of a man who did manual labor, caught and cooked his own food, drank liquor straight, no frills whatsoever?

Catching herself, she quickly looked at him, a knowing smile on his handsome bearded face. She turned away again letting the sheet of inky black hair cover her flaming face. Instead of feeling humiliation, she felt like a schoolgirl again. Her heart beat quick under her fur lined coat, heat prickling over the nape of her neck, sweeping over flushed cheeks. The rosy hue no doubt giving away her obvious flustered emotional state. This immense attraction had Hermione shifting more than once in her seat, tugging at the edges of her sleeves and on the collar of her shirt. Her eyes somehow always landing on the forbidden man in a well worn leather jacket adorned in studs and skulls and runes. Then her thoughts turned to the magic. Could she have been slipped some tincture of sorts and made to feel such things? Shaking her head, Hermione looked again at the man, Ferka, then licked her lips. If she thought she could have been enchanted somehow, then it was certain she was not. They would have disposed of her in the same manner as her ex-husband, but she was nearing the Bed and Breakfast. No, she was organically attracted to Ferka Pike. He had reeled her in by simply being himself, and never wavering from that, she was intrigued.

She could have had the world on a silver platter if she'd asked Hiram, but she didn't want such things. She wanted to be wanted, to be devoured whole by the man she loved. Hiram could never love anyone but himself, a fact she'd learned shortly after their marriage right out of high school. She pondered a moment, whether or not she'd have made the same choices if she'd known how he was all those years ago. No, she supposed, she wouldn't, she couldn't, aside from Veronica. Glancing back to the long sheet of bright red hair in front of her, longing to touch the silky strands, she held back with tremendous strength.

"Mr. Pike?" She asked hesitantly.

"Mizz Lodge?" He replied.

"Do you enjoy whiskey?" Holding her head high now, she met his striking blue gaze in the rearview with an intrepid heated stare.

"Yes ma'am, do you enjoy firewater?" His gaze never left hers, yet he kept his place between the yellow and white lines of the two lane highway.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure." A small smirk tugged on one side of her full lips.

"Good to know. We're nearly to your destination ma'am." The vehicle slowed considerably. The snow drifts were a sight in the forest clearing surrounding the cabin.

"Mr. Pike?" Hermione asked again.

"Yes Mizz Lodge?" He replied, turning to look at her now that he had put the car into park.

"It's Ms. Gomez."

…~*~...

The Pembroke stood empty, save for the dozen or so Ghoulies and Serpents moving through the halls and rooms, removing signs that Hiram had been kept hostage in any capacity. It was a new day, and shortly after Mr. Lodge's departure, the finger prints had all been wiped clean from every surface. Every ounce of Voodoo Stew was ran through the disposal never to be spoken or thought of again. Pop Tate was safely back in place at the diner, taking orders and serving up mugs of hot chocolate by the barrel full. He changed a little after the first night, he had bewitched a man after all, it was to be expected. The problem was going back to normal, closing the grimoire he had been passed decades ago, only to stand silent in his place of business, replacing the mask he'd known for years. However, word had gotten around that he was practicing again, and there were some new faces in the booths, to go with the odd and off menu items being ordered. Business was up this from this time last year, and Pop's couldn't have been happier.

If it wasn't for the obvious fox tail protruding from the far end of the diner, Pop Tate would have handed his front end business over to his brother. Seeing as he was in the presence of a Greendale Ghoulie witch almost all of the time, he decided it was best to stick around. Sure, they were patrolling and keeping the peace between the clans, but it was overbearing in a way that made Pop feel as though he was being pressed between slides. Smashed underneath the microscope so they could view every nook and cranny of his soul. Releasing a breath he had been holding since the young man walked through the door, Pop Tate made the short walk to the corner booth and sat down in the seat opposite the leather clad ghoulie.

"Just how long do you plan on sitting around this time?" Pop leaned back, hulking in the booth seat with his arms crossed over his chest. The little white diner hat that sat neatly on the crown of his head did nothing to relieve the discomfort that Ratso felt sitting across the table from the hulking Voodoo King of Riverdale.

"Well, Sir, I was told to sit here until Hiram stirs up again. When he does, we collect our clans and band together to bring him down." Ratso regurgitated the words he'd heard hundreds of times in the last several days. He was monotoned and quite lacking in emotion.

"Is that right?" The older man sat stone still, waiting for the younger man to fumble over his words.

"We-well, yeah. See, uh- You know, 'cuz he'll like regain memory or whatever." Ratso rubbed harshly at the back of his head, averting his eyes from the unrelenting eyes of Pop Tate.

"Those boys have it all figured out, is that it Ratso? They have a plan, and that's the law of the land." Pop had leaned his elbows on the linoleum table top, his hands clasped together.

"I mean, sure. They think they can handle it, that _we_ can handle it. I suppose it's far fetched. Hiram is a Mob boss after all. We're just small time out here in the sticks." It was coming out of him now, the worry and doubt.

"Innit funny Ratso, how it all seems to fit in it's perfect little boxes? Since when do you run for Greendale anyhow?" And that got Ratso's attention. He sat up straighter and tugged at the collar of his shirt, incredibly uncomfortable.

"Well, you heard about the merge didn't you Pop? Ghoulies and Serpents. Greendale, Riverdale and Centerville. We all wear fox tails and snake bites, and we all have a skull tattoo. Power in unity. If we aren't together, we won't survive." It made sense. That's why Ratso was among the first to get a tail and tat. He had signed up like he was avoiding his draft number being called.

"Smart move kid." Then Pop got up from his seat and stopped. "Look, I need my customer base, just like you need yours. I'm adding a menu. Tell your boss, _bosses,_ I'm not taking no for an answer. It's not up for a vote." Then he walked away, not another glance or word to Ratso. He simply went about checking the other customers and their varying cups and mugs.

Feeling like a voyeur, Ratso also rose from the table, pulled out his wallet and left a hundred dollar bill on the table. One last look around the unassuming greasy spoon and Ratso walked out of the front door, the bell jingling above him as he went.

…~*~...

"A new menu?" FP asked, smoke swirling from his lips as he spoke.

"I'm assuming for his _other_ customers, there has been a lot of new customers." Ratso was fiddling with his skull ring, something he had taken to doing a lot lately. He rolled over the tips of his thumb and ring finger, watching closely as it slid over each digit, one and then the other.

"Not up for debate FP, we didn't ask him if we could merge and move a whole coven into Riverdale. Let him make some money. So what if a few people fall in love and some chicken bones get strung up around town. We've been burning sweet grass and tobacco, calling on our ancestors." Malachai was fiddling with some wires on his bike. Now that they had merged, he was free to ride out in the open. There was some wear and tear on spots and he wanted to make sure his bike was in tip top shape for runs and such.

"I wasn't opposed Mal, I'm interested. He has a plan, and some of the residents here are on board. Could be a way to earn straight." FP sat in thought, watching Malachi and his wrench.

"He has at least six more tables full every hour." The words tumbled out of Ratso's mouth. "I don't think he needs our protection anymore."

"That's why he sent you home, he has his own muscle now." Musing, FP didn't notice when Malachai stood at his full height, wiping his hands on a shop rag.

"Seriously? He was allowing you to guard him. As a courtesy to you, the Serpent King. He's always had his own muscle. We were just too puffed up to see it. That's why Hiram bought the diner. Another way to inch us all out. If we're all gone, unable to earn straight, then Hiram wins. That stew will only last a small while, then we have him breathing down our necks again." Malachai took out his phone and sent a text to Betty. The new menu at Pop's was definitely a game changer.

"You thinking we need to call a meeting?" FP stood, taking several long strides to stand beside the bike.

"Hell yeah we need a meeting. We need to see what Mrs. Smith and Abuela have to say about all of this." Turning in his heel, Malachai made sure that Sweet Pea was the next text being sent out. He'd bring in their Grandma and their Mothers. It was all too important this next move, their lives depended on it.

"Hey boss, what this box over here?" Ratso was pushing the medium sized box across the concrete shop floor. A large maroon stain trailed behind the box edge.

"Don't touch that! FP! Is this yours?" Malachai knew what the liquid was that seeped out of the corners, he could almost smell it now.

"Not ours, I just opened up a few hours ago. I thought it was shop rags." Coming to stand over the box, FP looked from Malachai to Ratso. "There's nothing good in that box."

"Fuck it." Malachai took a switchblade from his jacket pocket, flipping the blade out so he could slice the tape that sealed the top flaps closed. Sucking in a deep breath, Malachai pulled the box open.

"Oh shit man, oh my God." Ratso almost lost his breakfast right then and there. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

"Well, I think we might be off pork for the holidays. No ham at Christmas." FP tried to make light of the pig's head in the box. The smell was rising to their nostrils now, and the need to run from the room was quite strong for Ratso.

"I can't FP, I can not stay here. I'll get Batso and Charles to help with this." Ratso stood up tall and made a move towards the door to go inside the Whyte Wyrm.

"You seriously cleaned up brain matter from a fucking duvet cover after eating the blue plate special at Pop's and a pig's head is a problem for you?" With a look of confusion on his face, Malachai threw his hands in the air.

"Hey, that pig didn't deserve this. He isn't waiting for Hiram Lodge to gut his family any minute. He's an innocent in this. I'd gladly pick brain matter from shag carpet if it meant the pig didn't have to die. Excuse me, I'm getting Batso." With not another word to either FP or Malachai, Ratso slammed his body into the shared door of the garage and the Wyrm.

"This had to be Artemis, Batso was saying he was laughing when they caught him. Judging by the coagulation, I'd say the time frame is right." Malachai rubbed a sleeve over his nose. The smell was about right for the time frame as well.

"Son of a bitch. What does this even mean?" FP was using the end of his pocket knife to retrieve a paper protruding from the pig's mouth. The whole thing was a mess.

"I think we both know what this means FP."

The door swung open and almost the entire bar had managed to smash themselves in the shop area. Archie and Veronica pushing their way to the front, Veronica was the first to speak.

"One of Daddy's favorite ways to send a message. What does the note say?" Uncurling herself from Archie's side, she came to stand slightly behind FP, reading the blood tinged handwritten note.

"It says our heads will be next if we don't comply with their demands. This was before we had Hiram. He was hoping we'd come back here and see it, he'd have you two and Betty before we ever figure it all out." FP handed the note over to Malachai.

"Make sure everyone is accounted for Red. I need the big dogs at the round table. You know what to do. Batso, look into this after the meeting. I'm gonna go clean up before my Grandmother sees me covered in pre carnitas." Tossing the crumpled up paper back into the box, Malachai didn't bother to look at anyone in particular, he felt like retching. This was not how he planned to make a play for Riverdale. He'd never deliver a severed head of anything to anyone. Things just weren't done that way in their world. It wasn't civilized. You simply don't hurt animals, innocents. It was a crime against nature. Putting a moral compass on a guy that willfully supplied Betty's father with jingle jangle and then sent the same guy with two henchman to kill her, it wasn't surprising. What was surprising was that they managed to gain control for the moment. Scrubbing pumice soap over the grease covered knuckles of his hands, Malachai felt the weight of the world settle on his shoulders. Then the self doubt when on ahead and made a home deep inside of him. As it ate away at his i sides, Malachai contemplates how that box was even able to reach the inside of the Whyte Wyrm grounds at all.

Who was not doing their job? Who i. Their ranks had somehow let a hulking nightmare of a man slip through the front doors into the back unnoticed by literally everyone. Then he remembered, the side door of the shop that dumped out into the parking lot. Malachai was racing through the bar and back out into the garage. He slammed his body into the door, and the thing swung open with ease. It was one hell of a surprise for everyone still in the shop.

"Who in the hell left that open?! Tell me right now!" FP demanded. He looked at every shocked face, deep in their eyes. If no one unlocked the door, then someone had opened the door.

"Um, FP?" An almost timid voice rose from out of the crowd.

"What is it?" FP's tone was hard and he was stiff as he waited for a proper answer.

"Tia's been missing for a few days Sir." It was one of the Riverdale Serpent youths. Trey stood next to her and their close knit group, he was biting his bottom lip with his eyebrows furrowed in upset, then he spoke.

"Look, we probably should have said something sooner, but Tia was buying jj from some richie kid in Greendale. She left after our shift the other night and she never came back. No phone calls, texts, nothin'." Trey was shaking, balling his fists into the leather pockets of his jacket. "I can't say that she wouldn't leak information. If Hiram Lodge is who we think he is, she squealed for sure Boss."

"FUCK!" The yell that came from FP's mouth echoed in the empty shop space. Veronica jumped at the angry tone, sucking in the side of lip and looking down at her feet. Her face was a flame with guilt and shame and heartbreak.

"Mr. Jones?" Her voice was small and meek. "I know where he might have taken her."

"Let's you and I have a talk, then we have church." FP motioned for Ratso, Batso and Malachai. Silently they agreed, then Batso began bagging the pig's head and box.

"Who gave Tia keys Trey?" Malachai asked, coming to stand in front of the kid and his clique.

"She was a lube tech with me. It was her job to get the bays warmed up, the parts washer runnin', the usual shop bitch stuff. If I couldn't make it, I'd give her keys. I guess she made a copy cuz I still have mine." Tugging on the chain in his front pocket, Trey revealed the key ring.

"Son of a bitch." Malachai huffed in frustration, running his fingers through his curls. "Shit happens threes, what's coming next?"

"The ladies are here. Church!" Hogeye yelled over the intercom.

The few stragglers that had stayed behind with Malachai and Batso filed into the Whyte Wyrm's bar area just in time to see Mercy Smith flanked by Magic, Alice, and Betty. Then came Sweet Pea with Alma, Benita and Kitty. Just behind them was a terribly irritated looking Filthy Fil and Dre holding onto his arm.

"Just in time. We have a lot to discuss." FP greeted the group.

"We can discuss anything you'd like, after I get myself a whiskey. Ferka, three fingers please." Waving Magic over to the bar with her withered looking hand, Mercy scanned the large group of people. Each eyeing her warily, trying to understand her with a mere glance. "Don't be scared, we don't bite."

"Speak for yourself Mercy." Alma came to stand next to the smaller woman, taking hold of her hand.

"Oh Alma, I was just trying to make light of our current predicament. So good to see you my dear!" The smile she had nearly split her face with how wide it was. The pair had not seen each other in quite a long time and it showed.

"Yes indeed, quite nice of you. I missed you Mercy. What do you say we sit at the men's table together, let them ask us for advice for once?" With a smile the two older women made their way to large Serpent clad doors. It would be the first time Church was held with clan women, much less witches. History was being made right here in the Whyte Wyrm.

Magic made sure to bring an extra whiskey for himself, allowing his mind to wander back to the car ride with Hermione. By the time he set the first glass on the massive carved table, Ferka had re-lived the car ride at least twice in his head. When he sat in his seat, he sipped the whiskey, savoring the sweet smoky flavor while he watched each individual squirm in their seats. He did try to tune out the extra noise, but then again, he couldn't help but listen to the room of people and their inner musings. There was a girl by the pool table that wished she wasn't so shy, she might ask out Sweet Pea if they all survived this mess. _Fat Chance_. Ferka thought to himself, Sweet Pea wasn't so much in love with Betty, but he did hold her in high regard. Scanning the groups of forty somethings and teenagers alike, Ferka "Magic" Pike could literally tell FP which of his crew was wayward and who would die fighting. It was in fact a gift and a curse, and it kept Magic's circle small and tight, just the way he liked it.

"Getting the scoop cousin? Must be a bitch to date you." Charles couldn't hold his tongue, and when his hulking behemoth of a cousin turned to look at him, he almost laughed. He'd grown up with Magic, the guy taught him to fish, to skin a rabbit and make a fire to roast it over. They were kin like nothing he'd ever known before.

"I'm not gonna kill ya little cousin. I just don't like your humor sometimes." Placing a heavy arm around the smaller man's shoulders, Ferka pulled him in for a brief moment. "Watch those kids that hang out with Trey, they can't be trusted. Let FP know. It's an ambush."

…~*~...


	20. Take Everything

Take Everything

…~*~...

For the first time since its inception, the Serpent Chapel was filled to the brim. They'd dragged in extra chairs and tables just for this occasion. Three of the four clan heads were sat at the mismatched tables, not talking but silently gauging their peers. Alma was holding onto a handkerchief, rolling the worn lace edges between her thumbs and index fingers, memorizing the delicate lace edging with the pads of each digit. Listening carefully while she siphoned energy from each individual in the room, tasting their auras like wines at a vineyard. Her attention was immediately brought to the hulking beast of a man who stood silent yet lethal behind Mercy Smith. Ferka Pike, she'd heard of this man, the mind reader, a legend in many respects. Tipping his head slightly in her direction, his piercing blue eyes met her guarded cole, she let the side of her mouth perk up in recognition, then her head tilted ever so slightly. They found each other trustworthy, and it suited the pair just fine. In the chair across from her, Pop Tate sat, quiet and perpetually unreadable. Smiling in his usual sunny way, he too tipped his head towards Alma. Reciprocating the action, she felt that Pop was also to be trusted. Scanning the energy waves from the various bodies around the room, she felt a surge coming from beside her. The energy was strong and hostile, pulsing violently with every ebb and flow. She knew her grandson more than he knew himself most days, pushing back a little, she sent a calming wave back in his direction. Wild curls bounced when he turned his head in her direction, urgency plastered over the sharp planes of his face. When the furrow of his brow softened ever so slightly, Alma smiled and winked at Malachi, when he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

 _"How do you do that?"_ The voice was in her head, but she had heard it just as plain as speaking. Her attention was fully on the burly barrel chested ghoulie. Being the clever bruja she was, she answered him in the same way he had asked her.

 _"Magic!"_ With a wink and a school girl's giggle, she sent the light hearted energy in his direction, causing a raucous chortle to spill past his bearded mouth. The entirety of the room fell silent, watching the exchange between the two.

"Now that we're getting acquainted, I think we need to discuss the next course of action. First being Tia and her affiliation with Hiram Lodge. Next will be the festering pig head we were so generously given." FP Jones had zero warmth left in him. His usual half smile was nowhere to be seen, nor was his infectious laugh to be heard. "Seems some of our ranks are working for the mobsters now, letting them into our clubhouse and giving them information about our residences, powers and the like. Hiram had the spells reversed as soon as we sent him back. The inevitable cannot be prevented."

"How long do we have FP?" Mercy Smith sat just as still as ever, the long greying wisps of hair pulled high in an elegant knot atop her head. "Not long I suspect, or you wouldn't have dragged our aged bones to sit around the church table." Mercy searched the faces of every guest in the room, she would find their secrets whether they wanted to tell them or not. She needn't listen to the ramblings of a boy she'd help raise, so she would watch. Someone was bound to let loose a bead of sweat sooner or later, inside of it would be a thousand never spoken secrets, she'd know them all.

"No, not long. We believe they intend to strike within the month. Fangs is being trained, Betty as well. Sweet Pea and Ferka have been most helpful with their skills." FP had taken to leaning on his father's walking stick; the weight of his world slowly settling on his shoulders. Alice had left it at his bedside table upon their return from New York just after the remodel of their bedroom. It was comforting in their current situation. He drew some much needed courage and memories from this particular item he inherited. He absently wondered how he had overlooked the ancient piece of wood for so many years.

"We heard about Fangs, quite interesting what a little spell in the woods will do to a shifter huh?" Mercy said matter of factly when an audible gasp fell from Kitty's lips, she looked from Benita, then to Alma, then to Sweet Pea.

"Am I wrong to presume the boy may be a little closer to family than a friend? Sometimes our men wander, spreading the lineage as far as they can, sometimes they plant it right in our own backyard. Leaving us to pull roots and tend the saplings. No harm in it when we need to pull ranks, but it sure does spoil Christmas dinner and birthday parties. You'll be wise not to shun him, shifters are hard to come by and we've only had the two in our midst." Once again Mercy spoke, paying no mind to the crying Kitty had been trying to hide. Benita had wrapped an arm around the woman, dabbing at her tear stained face with a tissue she'd pulled from her handbag.

"Two? We've had two shifters?" Betty glanced at every face in the room. Alma nodded to the girls right when her eyes fell on the older woman. Following her directions, Betty looked to the boy she'd been becoming quite close to in the last few months. The last person she'd expected, Sweet Pea.

"I'm not _just_ a shifter, but it's a family trait, right Mal?" It was Benita's turn to gasp now.

"You talk about it so casually. Like it's normal to turn into a goddamn labrador while running in the backyard with your cousins. It's not normal." Benita was flustered, her caramel skin mottled with red blotchy patches that ran down her neckline disappearing under the collar of her blouse.

"It's not entirely unheard of in our particular gene pool. There's a few more than two though. As Ghoulies, we never thought it was necessary to tell the town about our genetic predisposition to howl at the moon, or to become a fly on the wall. However, I'm not the shifter and I think you know that, _Mom_." Malachi squeezed Betty's hand, never looking away from his Mother's tear soaked face.

"It's not exactly uncommon knowledge that Fil is a shifter, his temper alone is cause for speculation. Ever since he was a boy, running through the woods with Charles and Ferka, that young man is as talented as they come and you ladies should be proud to call him a Cardenas. As far as Fangs, his father could be either of your boys Alma, but based on Kitty's flagrant sniffling, my money's on Leopoldo rather than Ignacio." Ever the bold one, Mercy tilted her head in sympathy, a small smile playing on one side of her face.

"You'd be right, I've known for quite some time, so have the boys. Why you're crying at a time like this is beyond me. Pull yourself together Katherine, this isn't the Dr. Phil show, you're not getting paid to blubber in public." Alma had no more sympathy for these women. She'd been holding this family together for longer than she'd cared to admit, Betty was their only saving grace.

"Easy for you to say, you never had the luxury of living with a philanderer." Sitting up pin straight in her chair, Benita sniffed and shifted uncomfortably.

"HA! Oh gracious me. You _are_ a prideful one aren't you?" With a little chuckle, Mercy reached around the indignant woman and patted Alma on the back. "I thought I'd had it rough with Hal, but you my love, take the cake with the in-laws."

"Me, I'm prideful? Your son in law gave up your granddaughter to a mobster and I'm a terrible daughter in law?" Totally perplexed by the old aged woman, Benita tried to laugh off the irrational feelings growing deep inside of her.

"She's not wrong, but that is neither here nor there, the problem here is with Hiram knowing full well of our deeds as well as a traitor in our midst." Alma was ready for planning to get the ball rolling. They had little time to waste and not nearly enough resources to defend themselves if the pig head was a precursor to the inevitable. War was coming, and they had to be ready for the attack, no matter how small.

"Tia told Hiram everything. He had her runnin' jingle jangle from Centerville to Greendale and back. Their business is booming, it was never dented, like we hadn't done anything to stop it." Shaking his head, FP brought a fist to his mouth, resting his elbow on the table top.

"They know a lot, but so do we. Sweets, show 'em what we've been working on." Betty leaned back in her seat, patting the lanky young man at her side on the back while sending a sly wink in Malachi's direction.

Stretching his arms out in front of him, Sweet Pea held out a fist over the table top, slowly unfurling his fingers to expose his palm. Inhaling deeply through his nostrils, he closed his eyes and blew over his open palm. A steady stream of air turned a bit heavy as it made its way from pursed lips to the end of the table where Alice, Jughead, Charles and FP sat watching and waiting. FP's hair moved slightly, then it was being tousled every which way until the room was a whirlpool of wind. Then it stopped. Sweet Pea stood and held out both palms, then blew again. A single water droplet fell on each table. Then rain manifested from the ceiling, only falling over the four individual tables. Curling his hands back into fists, Sweet Pea opened his eyes. A thunder head rolled over the top of the collection of waters. Betty stood now, looking from face to face, then pursed her lips and sucked in air, allowing her chest to rise. The clouds rolled back to where they'd come from, as did the rain and every drop of water that had manifested from Sweet Pea moments before.

"Very good, you've learned to manifest elements. That might come in handy in personal combat. Good job kids." Alice smiled brightly, not wanting to disappoint her daughter by telling her that their little talent show would do nothing to defeat Hiram Lodge and possibly Edgar Evernever, the witch collector and his cult of misguided witches.

Sweet Pea turned to look at Betty, then held his fist up to her. She smiled at him, raising her own fist and giving him a fist bump. Upon their fists touching, it thundered so violently that the church doors blew open and the framed pictures on the wall came crashing down. Betty took hold of Sweet Pea's hands, then the rain came flooding down, and the lightning threatened to strike the very establishment they stood in. Wind whistled through the cracks of the windows, blowing them open as the intensity picked up. Their heads fell back, mouths agape and eyes wide when the fire came flying out of the empty and long since forgotten fireplace behind FP, Alice, Charles and Jughead. The room was hot like hell fire now, sweat dripping from the ends of Betty and Sweet Pea's hair like they had just showered. Then the fire was gone, the wind had stopped, as did the rain and thunder. Betty turned to the standing adults in the room, her lover included, and inhaled again. The clouds rolled back, and the sun showed through the windows despite it being the middle of winter. The bar patrons had no idea what was going on, Ghoulies and Serpents alike stood with jaws dropped to their steel toes in awe of what they had just witnessed. Sweets turned his attention toward the hundred or so bodies in the next room, raising one finger, wordlessly mouthing a few words. Every soul in the next room closed their mouths and returned to their previous business. Curling the same finger in toward himself, the door shut with a heavy thud. Having nothing left to say, he turned around and sat in his chair, a cigarette resting between his lips from seemingly nowhere at all. Betty snapped her fingers in front of his face and the cigarette was glowing with life now. He inhaled nonchalauntly. His long fingers took the cigarette from between his lips and he exhaled a dark ominous looking cloud. Betty took the cigarette now, taking a drag from it like a pro, leaving Malachi looking utterly shocked by her actions. When she exhaled, it was a light cloud, then it mingled with the dark cloud. Sweet Pea took hold of the cigarette again, then inhaled, then exhaled once more. The two clouds spun and grew, the tip touching the table, spinning violently and with purpose. It was a tornado, whirling around the four tables looking for debri to gather inside of it. Betty and Sweet Pea sat silently, letting the little devil roam in front of them. Ferka was the only one who knew they could do this, that they had been working for endless hours to perfect this, so they could show their elders a little something before the shit hit the fan. They were nothing like the Greendale witches, the coven that hailed satan with their every breath.

Next thing they knew, Malachi had lit his own cigarette, cheeks hollowed with the force of his inhalation. Flicking the ash from the cherry of the burning tobacco between his fingers onto the table top, he never looked up to his peers, he simply put a finger tip over the top of the ash and smiled to himself. Wordlessly, Malachi swirled the ash over the table all the while smoke billowed from the lit end of the cigarette, collecting somewhere in the air above him. He stopped suddenly, bringing the filtered end of the cigarette to his perfectly pouting lips, and snapped his fingers. The ash began to fall, turning into freshly plowed dirt as it touched the table before him. Another exhale of smoke over the table and snow covered the earth. He seemed vaguely aware of the others in the room, of the tornado spinning idle near the snow and soil, sucking in pieces here and there as they were tugged gently across the laminate and wood table tops.

Holding his palms up in front of him, Ferka inhaled. The tornado spun to the end of the table where he stood and stopped in front of him, still spinning, gathering earth and snow. His mouth opened wide, then the thing grew, up to the ceiling and as wide as the four tables combined. With a loud CLAP the storm dissipated. There was literally nothing left, not a drop of water or speck of dust. Folding his arms over his chest, Ferka resigned to the spot on the wall he had been before. Betty sat still in her chair, checking her nails for any missing polish, while Sweet Pea leaned behind her to grab the ashtray on the shelf, offering it to his cousin and acting as if they hadn't collectively summoned the elements inside of the church room. Like they hadn't wiped the memories of at least a hundred people and shut doors with not even a single word being uttered.

"Looks like a couple someones have been doing their homework. And you thought we'd be in trouble. That we only had firearms at our reach. We have a whole hell of a lot more than that Alice, and you haven't seen what Charles and Malachi can do together yet. I have some washing that needs done, and to teach Jughead how to conjure. He's very gifted with the elements in his own right. He just needs a second and then the sky's the limit. Maybe that little wolf will come out of his den and learn a thing." With the flick of a boney finger in the air behind her, Jughead followed sheepishly as Mercy flung the door open and exited the room with the boy in tow.

"Your Mother is a force to be reckoned with Alice. We have our own youngsters to prepare. Have a good evening everyone. Blue plate special is the meatloaf, shakes are half off for the magically inclined." Smiling wide and chuckling slightly, Pop's also left the room.

"Well, I guess that's that. I presume we let Sweets and Betty wipe Tia and her band of morons? They seem fairly capable of the simplest of spells. I trust they can manage." Throwing the end of her scarf around her neck, Alma turned to Malachi, and smiled. Sending him another wave of positivity, she also left.

Benita and Kitty stood awkwardly near the open door. They had no idea what to do now that they had witnessed such tremendous magic. The elders seemed non perplexed, but they felt overwhelmingly unsure of themselves. Ferka stood tall again, arms still crossed.

"If you're afraid, then how can you help teach the others? You have rolls to play in this and all you do is cower in fear. You're going to stop judging and start helping. Love these boys, and that girl. Now go." His voice was low and serious. He went back to his wall, back to poking around in the others heads unbeknownst to them.

"Well then, I guess that's that. We'll see you back at the house for dinner. I'd tell you to be safe, but you can probably summon clouds to ride on. Heaven knows I have no luck with the elements at all." Alice tugged her coat on, then went for the door, only to stop and turn around. "I'm proud of you kids. For stepping up and learning, for helping us fight. It really isn't your war, it's not even ours." Placing kisses over Betty's head, she did the same with Sweet Pea and Charles, Malachi and finally FP. Then she left the room, coat tails billowing behind her.

"When exactly were you going to tell me about all of this?" FP looked at everyone left in the room, waiting for someone to respond.

"We wanted to surprise ya Dad."

…~*~...

Their boots were tossed haphazardly just inside of the doorway to their room, clothes stripped and forgotten about almost immediately. They hadn't been in the house alone for weeks now, and they were starving for each other's touch. It was no surprise that after the last time they'd found themselves rolling in these very satin sheets, that the heightened climate of their current situation would have Malachi on edge. Instead of burying his feelings in strange and drugs and alcohol, he buried them in Betty. Siphoning his anguish became second nature, she'd been doing it the whole time; it's how they managed to survive. No matter how it looked on the outside, Betty knew that they healed each other with every taste, touch, and whisper. They would be consumed if it wasn't for their devotion to one another. Laying fully satiated, limbs intertwined with each other and the sheets, they almost felt at peace.

"So, you and Sweets huh?" Half opening an eye at her, he smiled that wicked smile she loved so damned so much.

"Oh shut up, not this again. Are you going to piss on my leg to let him know who I belong to?" Rolling over onto her stomach, she felt the chill in the air with loss of his limbs over her own.

"You wish _Coop Deville_. I'm not the shifter remember? Besides, you smell like me always. You can't ever escape it." Running a finger over the curve of her spine, he relished in every dip and bump of her vertebrates. "I knew he was your second from the start, the way you two fell into friendship? It was the same for me and Charles. Way back, at the sisters, in the woods. We couldn't have been more than seven, they sent us to play then. Now they just dope you up and sit you down in front of the tube. Rot the brain so they can claim incompetence, they milk the system for the government benefit. Maximum dollar for minimal care. Glad I escaped when I did. I have Charles to thank for that."

Watching him closely, Betty took in every flex of his jaw, every tug of his teeth on his bottom lip, it took a lot for him to really talk about these things from his past. She never pushed him, always wanted him to be the one to dredge the bodies from the bog water that was his reality. In a hundred years she could never imagine the lives her brother and her boyfriend had led; she shivered merely at the thought. "You have each other."

"Yeah, 'spose you're right. It was the last time my Mom came to visit. Both of her sons were inside, but she only left with one. I don't think she realized that I already knew she wasn't there to bring me home. I could hear her in my head. I could feel her disgust when she looked at me, she couldn't even look me in the eyes." Swallowing thickly, Malachi looked at Betty now, holding her gaze for a brief moment. In that moment she felt every fissure of his heart, every tear that sat burning behind closed eyelids, and every knuckle that bruised under the tremendous force of his colliding with the brick walls of The Sisters of Quiet Mercy.

"You don't have to-" Betty began, but Malachi placed a single finger over her lips to stop her.

"I do, I owe you at least this much. I watched your whole life fall to pieces around you and I haven't told you shit." Roughened knuckles passed sweetly over her cheek, when the pad of his thumb tugged gently at her bottom lip, she kissed it without hesitation.

"It's not tit for tat Mal, I want all of you, no matter what." Leaning over him, she kissed him.

"It's too much sometimes. I can still feel the cement walls on my bare skin. The taste of blood in my mouth from biting the inside of my cheek when the paddle landed just right on my backside." Inhaling deeply, Malachi held Betty tighter to him. "It's like I never lived it, like it was someone else who was locked away for accidently lighting the curtains on fire because their big brother punched 'em in the back. I see it all from an outside perspective, but I can still remember the pain."

"I could slap the hell out of her for how she treated you." Running a warm palm over his stubbled cheek. She wanted desperately for his inner demons to leave him be. It was slow, but she knew every time he divulged even a tid bit of his former life to her, he was gaining control over his life. She'd take it as it came, no matter how small.

"Babygirl, we have to get back soon, we have to meet up with Magic and fix Tia and Tre." As reality sunk in, Betty's hand went still over Malachi's heart.

"I've never pushed into someone's head before." She lay there, looking up their ceiling, wondering what it would be like to search someone's head the way that Ferka did.

"It shouldn't be too bad, she has it comin' anyway. I'm sure she'll appreciate you poking around her head rather than your knee in her face again."


End file.
